#god this is dramatic. gotta love a bit of self indulgence.

[isthatafuckinggayangel]

Eyes Like Moons

Pairing: Milo Greer/Sam Collins

Wordcount: ~1.1k

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Milo showering Sam with compliments, Dorks in Love, Light Teasing, they're just being sweet that's the fic, reference to Sam's turning, Self-Indulgent

A/N: I've had this ship rattling around my brain for a couple weeks now and no one had written anything for it, so here I am with both a fic and a drawing. First Redacted fan art, fuck yeah

(Read on AO3)

Milo shifted bit, refocusing his gaze from Sam’s left eye to his right. “Shhh, I gotta memorize your eyes.”

He grinned. “What for?”

“Well for one, I can’t help it if I wanna stare into these gorgeous eyes all day.” He moved closer, thighs pressed tight on either side of Sam’s hips. “Second, I just gotta know. Gotta be able to picture ‘em in perfect detail whenever I wanna.”

Sam chuckled. “What are you doin’, darlin’?”

Milo had been straddling Sam’s legs for a while now, staring into his eyes while his fingers intermittently traced parts of Sam’s face and ran through his hair. He occasionally muttered under his breath, and while Sam could never catch all of it, what he could catch was always something sweet. Sam had instinctively grabbed Milo’s hips when he’d sat down on him where he'd been resting on the couch after trimming some of the low branches in the yard. Every time he caught him muttering something he would rub his thumbs back and forth over the skin his hands had landed on. He'd indulged him for a while, letting him do as he pleased since he didn't seem to be under any duress. It had been long enough without any explanation that he just had to ask.

Milo shifted bit, refocusing his gaze from Sam’s left eye to his right. “Shhh, I gotta memorize your eyes.”

He grinned, his silent laugh making his shoulders shake. “What for?”

“Well for one, I can’t help it if I wanna stare into these gorgeous eyes all day.” He moved closer, thighs pressed tight on either side of Sam’s hips. He pressed a quick kiss to Sam's lips before pulling back to focus on his goal again. “Second, I just gotta know. Gotta be able to picture ‘em in perfect detail whenever I wanna.”

Sam hummed, shaking his head slightly with a sweet, if not self-deprecating, smile. “Darlin’, these eyes ain’t nothin’ special. They’re just the same color as every other vamps’.”

“You may say they're the same color, but you have to at least admit the pattern is different.” Milo cupped Sam’s face in his right hand, his left trailing his index finger from Sam’s brow down to the tip of his nose before moving under his eye. “There’s not much of that red color in ‘em. Your left eye has a larger speck of it toward the bottom edge, closer to the outer corner of your eye than the center. The most beautiful silver color,” his finger moved from the center of his lower lid across to the corner and he pressed a kiss to his forehead, “the way light catches on them and makes ‘em practically glow,” a kiss to his brow, “these crows feet you’ve got from how much you smile,” cupping Sam's jaw and pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye.

Sam ducked his head into Milo's chest, a blush coloring his cheeks.

“Nooo, don’t hide those eyes from me, I’m not done.” Milo whined dramatically, gently holding Sam’s face in both of his hands and guiding him back to making eye contact. His thumbs rubbed back and forth across his cheekbones. Sam’s hands gripped his hips a bit tighter at the motion, trying to ground himself a bit. He still wasn't used to all of the sweet treatment Milo gave him despite how long they'd been together.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart. Always takes my breath away.” He pressed another kiss to Sam’s cheek. “These eyes… god, they're practically moons, babe.”

Sam’s breath hitched and he buried his head in the crook of Milo’s neck.

“Sweetheart, please-“ Milo quietly begged.

“Just gimme a sec, alright darlin’? I just need… just a second. Please.” Sam spoke softly.

That comparison made his heart leap. The moon meant a lot to shifters as a whole, but especially so for Milo. Milo, who’d always ranted and raved about how the best things always happened when the moon was out, Milo who always wanted to shift during a full moon just for the fun of it, Milo who held certain traditions surrounding the moon so incredibly close to his heart because it made him feel closer to his wolf and the pack. Milo didn’t compare things to the moon lightly. Only the things he held closest to his heart got that honor.

He took a deep breath, then leaned back again to look Milo in the eye. Milo’s brow was furrowed, a concerned look on his face. Afraid he’d pushed too much.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I’m good. You’re just too damn nice to me, darlin’.”

“No such thing.”

Sam smiled, a small thing, but one that held so much emotion. All the good he’s felt in being with his mate. He didn’t normally have the words to fully describe how he felt, often defaulting to physical affection or acts of service as a means to express his love. In this moment though, in light of Milo’s comparison, he knew exactly how to describe it. Something he used to hold just as close to his heart. Something he saw every time he looked at Milo.

“You’re my sun, you know.”

Milo raised his brow, a sly grin on his face. “I’m gonna kill ya if you’re around me too much?”

Sam lightly smacked his thigh with a laugh, his head once again burrowing in the crook of his neck for a moment. “You ass.”

“You love my ass and you know it.”

He looked up into Milo’s eyes. “Yeah. But I love you far more.”

Milo chuckled a bit, then seemed to get more serious. “Walk me through that one? I don’t know that I’m quite catchin’ your drift on it.”

Sam leaned back against the back of the couch and reached up to cup Milo’s cheek. “You light up my world, darlin’. You make everything feel… warm. Warm, and gentle, and so fuckin' sweet. It’s not something I’ve been able to feel for a while now. It's something I used to bask in every spare second I had. Be it a passing moment while I was swapping an engine or laying in the grass just for the fun of it. The sun was taken from me when…” he hesitated, “when I was turned. But you brought it back. You brought back that piece that I’ve been missing for so many years. Everything is… bright. Golden. Shining. All because of you. You’re my sun, Milo. Even if I can't go outside during the day to feel it, I feel it every time I get to hold you.”

Tears welled in Milo’s eyes. “ Christ, Sam. Really know how to make a guy emotional.” He chuckled as Sam ran his thumbs under his eyes, preventing the tears from falling. “And you said I'm too sweet to you.”

“Milo.”

“Samuel,” Milo teased back.

They both laughed quietly, wrapping each other in their arms and holding each other close. Kisses passed between lips.

“I love you, darlin’. More than anything.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. So damn much.”

[strawberryybird]

ok ok half a leonie pinelli nonbinary gender fic. lets go lets go lets post vulnerable gender thoughts on the internet

oh god like i would love love love to write a fic about Leonie’s relationship to gender and how one of the things keeping them in the closet is their (stupid, in post-war hindsight) rivalry with Byleth, and how it would look so.. juvenile if they said sod the gender binary, just like byleth had quietly done all their life. Like, Leonie just heaps responsibility and inheritance onto their own shoulders, wanting to make their village proud, wanting to surpass Jeralt the Bladebreaker, wanting the equal-footing relationship with byleth that neither of them knew how to forge. And now, in the settling dust of the world they fought for, they have no idea how to live a life without the weight of other people’s expectations. When the rest of the deers are going on about freedom and new world order, Leonie’s stood there, wedged between Ignatz and Hilda, wondering if it’s worth saving the things they hold most dear - Jeralt, Byleth, the memory of her village. What of their past self is worth carrying forward? What part of themself does Leonie even want to keep in this brave new world? The war had been over for 3 whole months. It would be terribly selfish to think of the war as a spark of self-reflection, but Leonie had never pretended to be altruistic like that. 

so here’s a little of that: warning for posthumous outing of gender questioning. 

Leonie snags Ignatz after the meeting broke up, and they potter on up to the third floor balcony to watch the sun set.

She shares a bottle of good wine with himon the balcony, sun already half-sunk over the horizon. They talk about everything that isn’t the war, and then, once they get the second, nicer, wine open, they talk about the war. Because it had been three whole months, and yet it had only been three months. Far too much time to be breaking into cold sweats in the middle of the night and not enough time to have fully scrubbed Nemesis’ blood out from under her fingernails. Too short a time to be so self-centred in discussing the war, there would be time for self-indulgence later, and long enough that the construction of new world was already well under way. Stuck in this half-risen morning, cranking the wheel to reopen the stage curtain and start the second act.

They buried Dorothea’s body in a city that never appreciated her, and says as much out loud. Ignatz poured them both another glass of wine and clinked the glasses together. 

“I thought we had put the toasts to rest as well?” Leonie leaned back on the stone to catch his eye. 

He shrugged, his smile still a little soft after the war. “I think it’s how she’d like to be remembered, really. I’ve nearly finished her painting.” 

Leonie drew a knee up to rest her wine on. The sunlight was dimming like a campfire without the familiar crackling in her ears, only the whip of the wind. “Ingrid, as well, then. She liked all that honour and tradition. A toast in her name seems like a way to remember her.”

“She wanted to be a knight, didn’t she?” Ignatz adjusted his glasses. “I wondered if she ever did change her pronouns.”

“What?”

“We used to talk about gender presentation, from time to time. Mostly in the greenhouse, it was one of the few times our lives crossed over.” He shifted and crossed his legs, the stone was getting pretty cold underneath them. “It wasn’t much, I don’t think, but I wanted her to have someone in her corner if she ever did want to..” He took another sip of wine. “- to present herself in a way that she wanted, or preferred, at least. We were lucky to have the Professor in our corners.”

Leonie washed down the sudden brick of envy in her throat with alcohol. 

“Do you mean Ingrid was...” She tailed off, searching for something that wouldn’t sound like a desperate confessional. “Like you?” She tilted her head at him, in a bit of a clumsy question.

“It’s not polite of me to say this since she’s dead, but now there’s no one else alive to know this about her. She wasn’t sure, really. We spoke about a lot of things, but she never did make any announcements. I was too shy to suggest I use different pronouns for her, and looking back now I don’t think she would have ever asked me to. But we spoke a lot about it, especially right before..”

“Before the war.” Leonie filled in the gap.

Ignatz drank more wine. 

The sun lingered in the far corner of the balcony, a brilliant orange puddle on the stone. 

Leonie poured them both another glass.

“This afternoon.” She began. “With everyone talking about being better people. I was thinking - ”

Ignatz’s smile grew sharp again, and she punched his shoulder.

“I’m not sure I want to be who I was before the war. She wasn’t very nice, was young Leonie. Don’t look at me like that,” Leonie caught the glint behind his glasses, “I’m glad I was her, she got me through a war. But if Lorenz and Marianne are being better versions of who they are..” Leonie’s throat caught on itself again.

“I liked her.” Ignatz said, without looking at her. “She taught me a lot, and even if she wasn’t nice, she was kind to me.”

Leonie didn’t know what to do with that. 

“Why did you tell me about Ingrid?” She asked instead. 

The evening wind whistled through the carved stone rim of the balcony, not quite chilling after the scorching hot day. Ignatz shifted again, knees up to his chest. 

“I didn’t say it to burden you further.” He said at last. “You already have Captain Jeralt, and Dorothea, and Ashe, and your village.” His hand nudged against hers on the floor. “You understood them more than the rest of us would. I know Hilda and Dorothea were friends, before, but you had different friendships with her. I wanted to give you Ingrid. Like you have your necklace, maybe. This world seems very new, now the war is over, but nothing really is. All those landscapes I used to paint had been seen before I drew them, and they’ll exist after me, too. I wanted to tell you about Ingrid so you could have that history, if you wanted. So you had something to inherit, or look back on. Like footsteps.

“I miss our school days, and who we thought we all were.” Ingnatz curled his knuckles in Leonie’s own. “But I’m glad we’re here now. Maybe Claude and the wine has gone my head, a little, but I think I believe him when he said we can be who we are in earnest, now.”

The catch in Ignatz’ voice was far more convincing to them than any of Claude’s charismatic speeches. Leonie grabbed his hand properly, both of them calloused and worn in the same way. It would be nice, to be themself, but Leonie hadn’t been nice before the war, and wasn’t sure if they even knew how to be. The world was being called brave and new, in all the grandstanding speeches made around the war council tables, and Leonie knew how to do that. The war had taught them how to be brave, if nothing else, and now Ignatz had said there was nothing truly new about them. It was something to be only new in yourself. They didn’t need to be as brave. The sun long set below the hillside, and Leonie held on tight. 

[444tsumu]

title Not His Type

rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content

word count 4,800+

warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks

author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*

summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“How could someone be such a bitch?”

“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”

There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.

No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.

His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.

To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.

With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”

The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.

“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”

“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.

“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”

You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.

“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”

“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”

“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.

You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.

With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.

He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.

Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.

Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.

“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.

“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.

“Hey, what the fu—”

“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.

“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.

“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”

“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.

“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”

Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…

“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”

The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.

“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.

“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.

Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.

“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”

Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.

“Wanna try me?”

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.

The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.

His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.

“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.

Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.

Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.

You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.

Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.

Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.

You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.

Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’

Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.

He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.

Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.

“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.

His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.

Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.

You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.

And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.

He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.

Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.

“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.

You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.

“Fuck my throat.”

The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.

His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”

The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.

Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.

He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that. 

“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”

Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.

“That was...”

“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.

It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.

“Never in a million years.”

His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.

It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.

“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.

“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.

He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.

His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.

“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.

“Mm, what else baby?”

Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.

The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.

“Fuck, Issei…” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”

You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.

The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.

“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”

Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.

“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.

“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”

His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.

It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.

You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.

“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”

Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.

“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.

“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”

The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.

“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.

Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.

No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.

“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.

The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.

The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.

“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.

“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.

He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.

“You’re not really my type.”

                             © 444TSUMU 2021

[eyes-talks-ocs]

Tagged by @winterandwords !!!

Thank you for the tag. (And people please go check them out, since I created my writing blog I feel like I've been the lost shy puppy following them around haha. I love their blog so much 🖤)

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FIVE THINGS I NEVER TIRE OF WRITING!

Rules: list five things you never get tired of writing. It can be anything, tropes, character situations, themes - whatever brings you joy.

(let me know all of your secret self indulgence, haha).

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No.1: Contradictions.

My favorite characters I have, are nothing but a bucket of contradictions. Macaw, he's the brute with a nasty reputation and a sour attitude that will put you in the ground for looking at him wrong. But - he's gentle. He'll go out of his way to help or comfort random strangers or be a listening ear for someone. Just don't preemptently judge him before he speaks or initiates an interaction. That will determine how he treats you. Lucan, my DnD child. A genuinely kind and friendly guy who wants nothing more than to make the people around him happy. He's carefree and always in good spirits - yeah he's deeply traumatized with anxiety and guilt chewing at him in every silent moment he has. Before running into the current party he's traveling with, he was an honored member of a cult and by his hands, countless people were sacrificed to his gods. In any moment it's called for, he has no problem being brutal and unusually cruel to the point he scares himself by his own actions because he enjoys letting his frustration out a little too much.

No.2: I'll bring you down with me *insert crazy eyes*

Also a trait both Macaw and Lucan share. Just. A complete stupid disregard for their own life? I don't know what to call it. Both of them so jaded with their own actions of the past that it's led to both of them being reckless with no self preservation left to care. Will sink a ship with them on it just to make a point. Will burn a building to the ground with them in it just to watch their enemies burn with them. Fuck around, find out because I am no longer afraid of death and some days I welcome it. Definitely - hurt me so I can feel alive or else I'll do it myself.

No. 3: Symbolism, Symbolism, Symbolism.

Uff. Especially animal symbolism. But everything from the landscape to phrases, to little Easter eggs for myself when I go back through to reread things. It won't bother me if no one else picks up on them. I know they're there and what they mean. My mind works in weird ways and makes strange connections between things and you bet your sweet bippy it's littered throughout all the writing and art I create.

No. 4: Tragic Backstory.

I think that's enough said. I just. It just happens. I create characters just so I can hurt them I guess. Even the ones I make that WEREN'T supposed to be tragic somehow get a little bit of traumatic spice thrown in there. I mean. Look at Lucan. My goal wasn't to have a sad backstory player character. But a happy go lucky adventurer. Well after rolling stats and all that fun stuff I made a backstory that would fit his stats and abilities. Somehow that led to being a cult runaway? Now as the campaign has progressed more and more dark details have been added to his backstory to incorporate and fit into the DM's main storyline. But hey at least he's still a ball of sunshine to be around! (And my DM loves my character's story and every opportunity he gets, he goes ahead and throws a curve ball just to emotionally hurt my character too haha. Like the last one was a small fight with a Kenku and he used my DEAD FATHER'S VOICE to taunt me. Fuck that was something I wasn't expecting the DM to pull. I loved it.)

No. 5: EVERYONE IS BI.

Self projection. I know. I gotta keep reminding myself that not everybody is attracted to everybody. Ha. But reasoning for why basically all my characters are when I try to justify it ranges from: "This is DnD, how could anyone possibly be just straight?" to the dramatic "he's never been treated with compassion or has felt a soft loving touch. He'll bond with anyone who's willing to give him that." and everything in between.

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This tag is open to whoever wants to do it!!

[merakiui]

welcome to the day a duck ruins your perception of items in genshin impact. i uh. made some items in genshin impact as yandere boys and what they're like sort of?? you could try and burn your eyes now. ;) adepti seekers stove- he's going to be a tsundere no buts or uhts. he's the type of yandere that's trying to be protective and failing miserably everytime. so being impatient and angsty. so, he resorts in kidnapping you instead. but hey look on the bright side! even when you're kidnapped you can have delicious meals and snacks! secretly likes to cook for you a lot, but he won't admit it even in death. just don't question why there's a lingering scent of sleeping potions in your meal and you'll be good as jolly jee! probably wants you to help him in the kitchen, since he once heard that couples do that. would probably give you self esteem issues down the line. "didn't i tell you to not get hurt? are you that much of an idiot?? here. have this it'll lessen the pain just a bit so we can walk back home. just drink it already." windsong lyre- smug bastard, smug shit. he's probably a player or just overly dramatic with everything. maybe he's righteous or something.. likes to show off his music skills a lot. he sucks at it tho. gaslights you probably in public places to add more pressure, because people are staring like you're having a performance or something. calls you love even if he's pissed at you for not listening to him, or accusing him of being toxic or suspecting him of being your stalker that always watches you from your window at 2am! would make you paranoid a lot. loves kissing your cheek and tickling you. he's a closeted pervert. you're gonna have to move in an isolated place too, he will spread rumours of you being his lover. "love, I'm sure that you're just overreacting. plus even if i was the stalker that you're talking about I wouldn't be oh so casually talking to you in public when I could've been hiding! jeez it's like your going crazy." wind-blessed harpastrum- such sweety! just so wholesome bakes you a pie in tuesday sweet. seems patient too but beware he will break your legs when you get a little bit too bratty for his tastes. touch starved too and it shows, that's why he loves to cuddle you lots! really obsessed with what you think of him. if you say you hate him he'll tear up and try to convince you that he's good, but if you pretend that you like him he'll shower you with uncomfortable affection and confessions. really great at making bombs and torture weapons too. probably sewed in a bomb inside your body threatened that he will kill you with it if you leave. bad at darts and archery. if you say that to him he'll laugh and take out his diploma saying that he's too smart for those childish games. he's impulsive in decision making. "haha. you know. you almost escaped from me back there. but hey! now you won't do anything stupid like that ever again if you can't walk." windblume balloon: listen man. im going to be killed but he's an airhead, pun intended right there. probably lowkey manipulative and doesn't even know it yet or chooses to ignore it. protective of you a lot. really delusional to the point that he rationalizes your escape as someone kidnapping you. so say goodbye to whoever poor stranger who was trying to help you escape they'll be greeted by an arrow through their head once he finds you. has a habit of holding your hand because he's afraid you might disappear from his line of sight and leave him all alone. if you let go tho he'll gorilla grip your hand, might crush it too. just very overprotective. he also doesn't know that he's an airhead. yeah."hm? why do i like holding you hand..? i just like it.. your hand makes me feel... uh. safe..? is that the word for it? ah. it was the word loved." wind catcher- he's a full on sadist. throw all of your escape plans out the window, this guy will climb a mountain and ride any wind current available to catch and torture you. persistently trying to make you like him atleast a bit. yeah, he's that kind of delusional. would teasingly push you

of a cliff as a 'light' punishment. dark humour and likes to joke about killing you from time to time. note: he can kill you. and he would also do it by ripping you in half with the wind current so just stay in his house and be a good lover that'll shower him in kisses, okay? okay. he mostly sees you as a tool of interest, but not just any tool- you're his favourite tool. "pfft! hey stop crying now! you're making me feel bad! hm? oh? why am i doing this? well i mean maybe I'm angry that someone was trying to escape. again." warming bottle- he will absolutely leave you in the cold if you were being a brat towards him. lives in dragonspine to spite you, also because he can just turn take away your blankets and anything that can give warmth so you gotta ask him to cuddle you to survive. he usually does this when he's feeling a little petty. which is so frequent. that you can almost give it a schedule. but don't tell him that. kind of a tsundere but only when it comes to physical affection since he's shy. that's why he has to take away your blankets so it looks like he's just mocking you but not because he's touch starved. he's not at home that much too but don't worry, he will make it up to you by uh.. physical activities.. "what? you're freezing? no shit we're in dragonspine. oh? you want me to hug you..? hm. fine. I'll indulge you for a bit. I am quite merciful." parametric transformer- businessman that scams you a lot lol. he's going to be a masochist because i said so, yeah i know the electric stone thing gag that's why i made him a masochist. really likes to collect useless stuff and spoiling you, so expect your room to be filled with a lot of random things from jewelry to mushrooms and crabs. has a you should be grateful i even give stuff mindset. thinks that giving someone something of vaue would make them fall in love with him instantly. also probably loves it when you fight back especially when you successfully land a hit on him, he will enjoy it. but be careful he has different responses whenever you hit him. pick your poison. spends a ton of resources on everything to keep you in line. that rope costed him 700 pinecones. "why do you even wanna escape? i give you a ton of stuff so you won't get bored! hah. maybe if i had picked up someone else they would've been grateful." portable waypoint- throw out your escape plans the season sequel. he's very quiet but has a small temper that won't last that much. maybe he's like that since he tries so hard to repress it. listen he's trying okay? escape always fails so quickly. one minute you're in springvale shouting, crying, begging for anyone to help you and then back to his house to see him sipping some tea. his punishments are cruel too- he makes sure to leave you in a den of monsters and ruin guards, waits until your in the brink of death and teleports you back to him. has a superiority complex over everyone too. probably likes to make you feel weak when you have to rely on him. loves to crush your self esteem. wants to be affectionate but thinks that you, as an inferior being, should be affectionate with him instead. so tsun. "see? this is what i was trying to tell you. you're too weak to actually survive out there. you even had to rely on me to save you. pathetic." memento lens- mysterious and elegant. he's quite cryptic to say the least. likes to watch you from a far if he's feeling a bit angsty. you try to make sense of what he says and it just leads to you being confused even more. and he likes that about you. you actually try to understand him, even if what you guess is wrong. you're going to have a tough time with this guy if you wanna escape. just avoid any fox statues and you'll be good. the problem is the shrine maidens. they basically want the two of you to end up together so they don't have to deal with him. he's actually very gentle with you punishments still suck but atleast he doesn't do it physically, he just makes you write that you're sorry over and over until your wrist are tired. loves poetry and solving puzzles, riddles, scriptures. he's

smart but soft. "spring blossoms even in the darkest depths of uncertainty, is that why you have the courage to try and escape me..?" kamera- perfectionist stalker. wants to make sure that the photos he takes of you are perfect to every extent. colour, lighting, and expressions. even if it means going inside your room and having the possibility of waking you up from your sleep. likes to take pictures of everything too. kind of like this; both of you are walking somewhere and he stops to take a picture of a sunset. he takes twenty minutes trying to find the correct angle. but the sun is already gone so he sulks. maybe- you can cheer him up by volunteering to be his model? you'll do that? right? also worships you like a god so if someone dared to even say something breath near you or celestia forbid insult you, best to say they'll be quickly disposed of by blackmail and fake shit. would not steal any of your belongings, he would just take pictures of it. so he's not that bad. "i consider everything in this world is beautiful, but you have surpassed that. so that is why im keeping you here. no one deserves even a glimpse of you!" waverider toolbox- he's such a gentlemen and a sweetheart. always there to help you with repairs, sometimes he'd add some updates to it too. just ignore the stuff going missing inside your boat thing. he probably guilt-gaslight you into staying with him in his waverider then bam your in an island stranded. ahaha, now both of you just have to survive by working together ya know? like a loving couple likes hugs and physical affection a lot! bonus points if it's given when he's tired from doing his job. as i said tired guy so appreciates all the things you do for him whether it's paying for his meal or giving him a gift. next time, he'll make sure that you won't leave the island permanently. thinks that stranded island equals date smh. " ahh? oh! is this for me? really? thank you.. i don't usually receive gifts but that just makes this even more special! say, do you wanna go on a trip? i just fixed the waverider from last time." red feather fan- mischievous little shit. likes to scare you a lot by appearing on trees and just jumping on you. knows that you're trying to escape but pretends not to since he likes to try and guess which direction you would run to. hugs you a lot even before he kidnaps you really touchy even if you say no he'll use the good ol puppy eyes! doesn't work? okay he'll just smell your clothes when you're sleeping as compensation. he likes to flirt with you a lot. some pickup are cheesy.. but others are a little- personal? acts cool by making a dramatic entrance everytime even. you know those radical superhero landing stuff? that's him. he would build a nest as your house even being a dick and placing it on top of a mountain, goodluck on trying to get down. "caught you! going to the shore was so predictable by the way. maybe you should try a different place next time, dear? hm? maybe a restaurant so we can have date? sounds great right?" serenitea pot- unhinged malewife that wants to make a the perfect living space for you- ehem. probably a perfectionist if you squint hard enough. he's delusional but just a little lucid about the stuff he does to you. likes to make a ton of furniture too! personalized the room you're trapped in with a ton of valuable and expensive materials. just don't try to escape he'll cut your limbs off just like a damn tree shawtie. owns a shit ton of pets ranging from boars to cats. all of them are like bodyguards to you during your stay. dreams about having a peaceful life with you in the realm someday, sigh. he sometimes has burnouts where he just places a bunch of furniture on a single room and call it a day. "and here is your room! do.. do you like it? i made it just for you! i didn't know what wood you would prefer so i just settled on whatever i can find! ahaha. we're kind of like a married couple living together now... right?" nre menu- he's probably going to be from the adventurers guild. really awkward and shy. takes for him a long time to

open up to you. when going on quests he's the one in charge of carrying the food and healing shit you need. really patient and nice! slightly uh mean with other people trying to talk to you but other than that everything is normal. everything is normal the long loving gaze he gives you every now and then and some food being left on your doorstep. yeah let's not question it i mean he's just so shy! he would never do anything wrong? right?? he's a closeted pervert, cliche i know but he's a pervert with a line to not cross. he just checks you out. good for him. would cry if given any ounce of affection. sweet baby. "t-that was a tough commission.. oh u-uh.. do you need some food to replenish your energy? we need to do the other commissions you know.. hm? why aren't you eating it.. something wrong with the food..?" seelies- spoiled. that's the word to describe him. really straight forward with his courting kind of dumb? but he's so damn lucky for some unknown reason that your plans to avoid him always fail. yeah the high quality rope you just bought for 1000 mora? it broke and you fell into his arms. he's probably rich by sheer dumb luck too. finds a ton treasure chests even in the places you didn't expect. people pressure you into spending time with him. since he's just so cute! how could say no to such a face? it really feels like the gods are on his side ya know? he throws a lot of very very aggressive tantrums if you're not with him. thinks he's doing a good job at courting you, with rationalize rejection as a playing hard to get. "tada! look i got you this crystal i found while i was walking! it looks like a diamond and it has a ton of colours too?? is it valuable?? would you kiss me if i give it to you??" endora- majestic, regal, and likes to explore a lot. he uh. probably trapped you in a bubble once or twice too. really curious about his surroundings, also has no personal space since it's first time going out. he would cuddle you when he feels like it homie. kidnapped you and made you his tour guide. don't try to fool him he learns quickly about stuff. fast swimmer, so no joining any expeditions in water if you don't want their ship to be wrecked by a mysterious being of the teyvat seas. he likes to see you cry. it's not a kink he just feels connected to you when you cry. doesn't have a house so you just live in a run down boat. he's doesn't know when you're lying to him sometimes. god complex bastard. "this world. at first i wasn't sure if i was going to like it or not, but ever since I've met you... I've grown to tolerate some parts.. so you should be thankful, you've convinced me. mortal." intertwined fate/older twin- listen. he's just so smug about everything he does. and he knows you love him. probably invites you out on dinner only for him to not show up. so basically he's an asshole without a doubt. toxic boyfriend that gives you false hope and has a ton of admirers. you probably think he won't settle for you right? ah, he's not that cruel. so picks you as his lover out of all the billions of people. you should be grateful! he even kidnapped you! do you know how hard it was for him to go all the way from his home to yours? anyways yeah. asshole. he likes to do the open the door for darling trick where he just gives you a small crack on the door and watch you make a decision. it's an act of your loyalty. if you escape he'll make you feel pain. if you don't then he'll reward your patience. god complex bastard 2."sigh. did you try to escape? again? patience is the key to everything you know. maybe you should learn that. i expected more smart from you." acquaint fate/younger twin- cinnamonroll he's such a sweet guy. he's always there for you when you need him. okay- he has a nice guy complex, fucking damn it. probably uses the but I've been there for you since the start trick unintentionally a lot. he just doesn't know he wants some action, so be thankful that he didn't just jump on you like a barbarian. he's kind of contradicting himself too. one hand he wants you to love him, on the other hand he doesn't

believe he deserves you. loves to give you the same things, remember that one painting you liked from two years ago? he got you that. quantity beats quality. surprisingly, he's really patient but would have bursts of anger every now and then. has a self value issues?? yeah, but did i tell you he's a touch starved guy. punshments are just him softly lecturing you about what's good and what's wrong."i always viewed myself as inferior, that i didn't deserve anything.. but this time. i want to be greedy just once." that's it- :'D i haven't proofread this but here you go mer! ill probably continue with more humanisations of items in genshin later.. if you ask why i ruined your day with this crazy idea i was watching that one video of a person humanising social media and got this idea. also i discovered how to bold out texts... i have power..ejwjdhshaj

so yeah have a great day! -🦆anon

I AM IN AWE?!?! WHOA OMG!!!!! 🦆, THIS IS FANTASTIC!! AAAAAA (≧∀≦)

All of the various characterizations… *chef’s kiss* It’s literally so good! With each one I read I kept thinking okay this guy is my favorite and then I would read the next description and my heart was stolen again. I can’t pick a favorite now. T_T

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 2

July 27th: Bed sharing/one bed

Read on AO3

Fun fact - everything I’ve written/will write for Bechloe week this year are all part of the same universe, but they won’t be posted in chronological order. So at the end of the week I’ll probably put something up with a list of the prompts in chronological order :)

-

Beca was pretty sure that sharing a bed with Chloe Beale was simultaneously the worst and best thing that had ever happened to her.

It was almost unbearable to be that close to her without being able to touch her in the way she really wanted to.

Strike that.

It was unbearable.

But Beca couldn’t sleep any other way.

On those occasions when Chloe would sleep elsewhere, Beca would find herself unable to drop off.

She’d be up most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, unable to shut her mind off.

It was as if Chloe’s mere presence could calm Beca in a way that nothing else could.

And then they would have these moments of complete vulnerability late at night.

Chloe would reach out with a featherlight touch and run a hand through Beca’s hair. So gentle that sometimes Beca thought she was imagining it.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“M’kay.”

Beca would roll over, still practically asleep, and lift her arm, allowing Chloe to either scoot back into her - making Beca the big spoon - or for her to rest her head on her chest.

Beca was usually already asleep by the time Chloe had gotten into a comfortable position, but she always seemed to register the soft “thanks,” that Chloe would whisper.

On those nights when it was Beca’s turn to be comforted, Chloe seemed to always know without Beca having to ask.

Logically, Beca knew it was probably down to the fact that Beca tossed and turned more, or played on her phone for longer, that tipped Chloe off, but she liked to think that Chloe just… knew.

“What do you need?” Chloe would ask, her voice quiet and thick with sleep.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Can you do the hair thing?”

“Mhm.”

Chloe would then lie on her side and gently run her hands through Beca’s hair, her nails lightly scratching her scalp.

Her other hand would rest on Beca’s side or stomach - depending on if she was on her back or side - and her thumb would sweep gently back and forth.

In the daylight, neither would mention these moments. They’d usually wake up back on their respective sides, and if they didn’t whoever woke up first would pull away and climb out of bed - usually waking the other in the process.

And while these moments were nothing short of tortuous for Beca, they were still the favourite part of her day.

Because at two or three in the morning, nothing else matters. There are no distractions. No texts or emails to answer. No potential to be interrupted. Nowhere they needed to be.

They could just exist in the quiet together. Their bed was an island in the room. They could ask questions that, in the cold light of day, could be forgotten or ignored. They could share secrets or confess insecurities that neither would at any other time of day.

“Bec, do you believe in soulmates?”

“I don’t know. I think so. Do you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

-

“If I hadn’t kissed Jesse, do you think things would be different?”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Just different. I dated him throughout all of college, maybe I missed experiencing some things?”

“Do you regret dating him so long?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

-

“Chlo’?”

“‘Yeah?”

“What if I don’t make it as a producer? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re the most talented person I know. You’ll make it.”

-

Over the years of being best friends with Chloe, she’d always had a crush on her. It had been a harmless thing really, she assumed everyone had a crush on Chloe.

Especially after a drunken confession to Aubrey had caused the blonde to let out a snort of laughter and say “girl, same.”

But this last year or so that they’d spent sharing a bed - sharing more of themselves with each other than they’d ever done before - Beca had fallen hard and fast and completely in love with Chloe.

Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t an ideal situation. Especially considering that, about three weeks ago, Chloe had started dating Chicago.

“He rescued us from the Med, Beca. I think I owe him a date.”

“Technically Amy and I rescued you. He turned up after the hard bit was done.”

Wearing a new dress and her highest heels, Chloe had thrown Beca a wink and said “don’t wait up!” as she left their apartment to meet him for the third time this week.

Once the door closed, Beca flopped back dramatically on the bed and let out a groan.

“You know you could tell her!” Amy called from her bedroom. “Actually, ignore that, that’s a bad idea. If she turned you down it would make our living situation way more awkward.”

“When not if,” Beca said, miserably. “Have you seen the abs on Shit-ago?”

(Yes, her nickname for Chicago was unnecessarily mean and childish, but give her a break.)

“If Chloe hadn’t accepted the date I would have climbed him like a tree,” Amy said.

“You could save me a lot of pain if you’d use those millions of dollars you have to move out so I could at least have my own room,” Beca said.

Amy left her room and was also looking dressed up for a night out.

“I’m doing you a favour captain,” Amy said. “If I move out you’ll have no excuse to share a bed anymore, and I know you can’t sleep without her. Besides, when she eventually moves in with Chicago, you won’t be able to afford the rent on your own.”

“Please don’t use his real name, it humanises him,” Beca said. “And what makes you think she’d move in with him? Has she said anything?”

“Not specifically, no. But things are obviously going well between them. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that Chloe has found ‘the one’,” Amy said. “So, you know, if you’re going to make a confession of love, time’s ticking.” She checked her phone. “I gotta go. If you are going to comfort eat please leave my Ben & Jerry’s out of it.”

“I make no promises,” Beca said.

“Hmm, due to your pathetic state, I’ll let you off. See you tomorrow!”

Beca spent the remainder of her night feeling sorry for herself, and making some truly self-indulgent mixes.

There were so many songs about unrequited love that Beca was never short of material, and when she finished she saved them in a hidden password-protected so no-one else could even accidentally listen to them.

No, these mixes weren’t going to help her career but they did make her feel at least a little bit better.

The crying and eating Amy’s ice-cream had helped too of course.

Beca was in bed by the time Chloe got back that night, and even thought she wasn’t asleep she pretended she was.

Chloe could always tell when Beca had been crying, and she definitely did not want to talk about the reason why.

So she closed her eyes when she heard the keys in the door, and kept them closed as the lights came on which was followed by the sound of high-heeled shoes walking across the apartment.

She felt the bed dip behind her, and heard the click of Chloe’s lamp turn on.

The bed jostled again, and the main light went off.

She heard running water from the bathroom as Chloe washed off her makeup and brushed her teeth, and then the sound of drawers opening as she searched for pyjamas.

She heard Chloe undressing, and tried not to picture it. She hoped Chloe didn’t need help with unzipping her dress, because she didn’t know if she could handle that right now.

Eventually the bed dipped again and the light went out.

She felt Chloe gently tug at the blankets so she could cover herself.

Then there was nothing but a calm silence.

Beca could tell by the way that Chloe was breathing that she wasn’t asleep yet and before she could stop herself, she was rolling over to face her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Chloe replied. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Beca just smiled as she looked at Chloe’s face in the moonlight. She was so beautiful.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Beca said. “How was your night?”

They were both whispering, even though they were the only two people in the apartment, and it was only a little after midnight.

“Fine,” Chloe said. “What did you get up to?”

“Made some mixes,” Beca said. “Before you ask, no. They’re not ready yet.”

Chloe grinned. “Not even for me?”

“Especially not for you.”

“Spoil sport,” Chloe said.

They fell into an easy silence while they just continued to look at each other, and Beca felt that tug in her heart again.

She wanted more than anything to just reach out and touch her. To tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. To sweep her thumb across her jaw.

To kiss her.

God, she wanted to kiss her.

She swallowed, and turned so she was lying on her back.

Amy was right. Time was running out if she was going to say something. And Beca knew she had to say something.

She just didn’t think she could look at Chloe while she said it.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asked, in her gentlest voice that was always Beca’s undoing.

She just had to do it. She had to rip the bandaid off and deal with whatever came after.

If Chloe turned her down… well… their friendship could survive that.

Right?

“Are you gonna move in with Chicago?”

If she’d been looking at Chloe she’d have seen her frown.

“What? No, what made you ask that? We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks,” Chloe sounded genuinely confused, and it spurred Beca on. “We’ve been on, like, six dates.”

“But is that something you could see yourself doing? With him, I mean.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t really know him, I hadn’t thought about it. Why?”

Beca swallowed again.

It was now or never.

“Chloe, I… fuck, this is… look, this is hard, okay. I’m not good at this.”

“Bec, you’re kinda freaking me out,” Chloe said. She sat up and switched on the lamp on her nightstand.

Beca felt instantly exposed and vulnerable - way too vulnerable - and she was up and off the bed in seconds.

“Beca-”

“Just… just give me a second,” Beca said, her heart beating uncomfortably.

She could feel tears building in her eyes and, at that exact moment, they heard the sound of keys in the door before Amy walked in.

“Funny story,” she said, shutting the door and walking further into the room. “Turns out it’s next week that I’m staying-”

She stopped abruptly, realising she had stepped into some kind of emotional minefield.

“Uh oh,” she said. “Beca when I said you should tell her I didn’t mean toni-”

“Nope!” Beca said, loudly cutting her off before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Okay, so this wasn’t exactly going to plan.

She had locked herself in the bathroom and was maybe on the verge of a panic attack.

Not an ideal situation.

“Beca,” Chloe said, knocking on the door. “Come on, you can’t stay in there forever.”

I can try, Beca thought.

When Beca didn't respond, or give any indication that she would come out of the bathroom anytime soon, Chloe turned to Amy with a huff of frustration.

“What just happened?”

“So… she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No! I think she was about to tell me something and then…” Chloe trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. Something freaked her out and then you showed up.”

“Look this is really not something I should - or want to - be involved in,” Amy said. “So I’m just gonna…” She jerked a thumb towards her bedroom. Amy made a hasty retreat and Chloe returned to the bathroom door.

“Beca, please,” Chloe said. “Look, even if you don’t wanna talk to me, can you just unlock the door so I can go pee. I’ve had like a full bottle of wine tonight and you know how small my bladder is.”

She heard the lock slide and Beca opened the door.

Chloe could see tears in her eyes despite the fact that Beca was doing everything in her power to avoid looking at her.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, as Beca moved aside to let her in.

It hadn’t been a lie, Chloe really did need to pee, so after she closed the door behind her, Beca sat down on the bed and let her head drop into her hands.

It’s probably for the best, she thought. It would ruin everything.

The light from the lamp had had the same sobering effect of daylight.

It reminded her of all the reasons she hadn’t told Chloe how she felt, and why she shouldn’t tell her now.

Any fantasies she could conjure up during the night were always chased away by the day.

While Chloe was stroking her hair in the moonlight, it was easy to imagine that they could be together, but those hopes were always replaced with facts the next day. And the same thing was happening now.

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest as she came to a realisation.

She couldn’t keep doing this.

She’d have to start looking for a new place.

When she heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water she quickly wiped her eyes.

She didn’t look at Chloe when she came out, and kept her eyes fixed on her clasped hands in front of her.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” Beca said. “It’s… it’s nothing. It was dumb. Can we just go to sleep?”

“Sure,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Beca didn’t get into bed until the light was off and then she lay with her back to Chloe.

“Night Bec.”

Beca swallowed again, hoping her voice was steady. “Night.”

Beca’s phone then lit up on her bedside table.

Amy: omg tell her or I will!!!

Beca read it, smiled briefly, and then locked her phone.

She didn’t say anything else, but after a few minutes of silence, Chloe rolled over and wrapped her arm around Beca’s middle. Her other hand started stroking through her hair.

“You get a headache when you cry,” she said softly, answering the question Beca hadn’t asked.

Something broke inside Beca, and she knew she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Chloe.”

Chloe’s hand stilled and Beca’s heart seemed to stop beating.

The silence stretched on, and Beca had to fight every urge to run.

And then Chloe’s arm tightened around Beca’s waist, and she pulled her closer.

“What took you so long?”

Beca laughed and turned around to face her. Their faces were inches apart now, and Beca could see the tears building in Chloe’s eyes.

“I was scared,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so fucking scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me,” Chloe replied. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

Her eyes traveled over Beca’s face, flicking between her eyes, looking for doubt or regret. She didn’t see either. She saw love and adoration. She saw vulnerability, hope, and a tiny fraction of fear.

“I’m in love with you too, Bec.”

And then the fear was gone from her eyes and her face broke into a grin.

“Yeah?” Beca asked, letting out a tearful laugh.

“Yeah,” Chloe replied.

“Can I kiss you?”

Chloe nodded, and their lips met a second later.

Tomorrow, in the cold light of day, Chloe would tell Chicago she didn’t think they should see each other anymore. Tomorrow, she would ask Beca on a date and if it went well - which she knew it would - she would ask her to be her girlfriend.

Tomorrow, when the sun was up, she would repeat these things they’d said to each other in the moonlight.

She’d tell Beca she loved her.

She’d tell Beca she’d always loved her.

And Beca would say it back. A thousand times. In a thousand different ways.

[ellewriteswrongs]

layers of love - prinxiety

1.8k words

ao3 / ko-fi / previous work

summary: self-indulgent fluffy prinxiety, very domestic, some shrek references, y'all know the drill

cw: mild swearing, slight innuendo/suggestive dialogue

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Virgil asked from where he laid against his boyfriend’s chest. Roman’s hand stilled as he played with Virgil’s hair.

“Hmm?” He hummed, continuing to rock them with one leg hanging out of their shared hammock. “‘Course you can.”

Virgil made something akin to a purr as he laid in the sun, his hoodie discarded for once.

“When you first said you loved me…was it scary?”

Roman’s brow furrowed at the question, leaning back to try and see the other man’s face.

“Scary? I…I guess I don’t know. I think, in the moment, it just felt right,” he spoke with a soft smile, pausing only to plant a kiss on the other man’s forehead. “But ever since I realized it…every time I thought about saying it, I was terrified.”

When Virgil only shifted, tightening his grip around Roman’s waist, the latter continued.

“I was so worried you’d be freaked out and think I was moving too fast and the last thing I ever wanted was to scare you off, but I…” he trailed off, letting out an amused chuckle. “I was only ever afraid of losing you. Loving you has never scared me.”

Virgil hummed, leaning up to steal a lazy kiss from the corner of Roman’s lips.

“But what about all those stupid stories you like?” He smirked, folding his arms over Roman’s chest as he rested his chin on them. “Quite a bit of pressure there, Princey.”

Roman chuckled, twirling a particular strand of hair around his finger.

“Ahh yes, those stupid fairytales that you make me read to you all the time,” he teased, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I have more than enough understanding of when dramatic proclamations of my undying love are unwanted.”

Virgil just exhaled a short chuckle, reaching to pull Roman’s hand out of his hair and over to hold it against his cheek, first pressing a kiss into the palm.

“Isn’t that why it’s such a big deal though?” He mused, his eyes half-focused on the beach around them. “Like, isn’t the whole point of falling in love so that something changes once you say it? And…and nothing changed when we said it.”

Roman stiffed a little bit from under him. “Did you…want something to change?”

No. No, of course he didn’t. That was the best part about it.

He told Roman as such.

“I guess I just…always thought something would change, even if we didn’t really want it to,” he explained, closing his eyes as Roman started playing with his hair again. “But I like how we are. How we’ve always been.”

“How we’ve always been? I don’t know about you, stormcloud, but I think things have definitely changed for the better.”

Virgil huffed with a small smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, his cheeks hot. “I’m glad we changed even if it was just a little.”

Roman chuckled, his chest vibrating comfortingly against Virgil’s head.

“Yeah, I think I like you a little bit more these days, sunshine.”

Virgil scoffed, jabbing Roman’s side with his elbow.

“Thanks, babe," he spoke teasingly. “What glowing praise."

Roman only wrapped both arms around him and squeezed tight, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other holding him by the waist.

"My darling dark and stormy knight,” Roman cooed dramatically, peppering kisses all over his face until the other started laughing. "The angel from my nightmares, oh how I adore you with everything I am."

Virgil smiled, his gaze soft and fond as he looked up at the man he loved.

"Mhm, that's more like it," he smirked, stealing a kiss. "I love you, dork."

Roman bent down to lean their foreheads together.

“What's with all the introspection, my love?"

"Good word, babe."

“Shut up, I'm just worried about you," Roman grumbled, tucking Virgil's head back under his chin.

"You're worried about me? Because I’m talking about being in love with you?" Virgil asked, taking one of Roman's hands to fiddle with his fingers.

"Well, you just don't...talk about it. We both don’t,” Roman explained, his voice vibrating through his chest. "And I'm glad we are, it's just...not what we do."

Virgil smiled, sighing contentedly.

"Nothing's wrong, I promise,” he assured him. "I guess I've just been thinking a lot lately."

"Oh wow, congrats," Roman teased with sarcastic claps.

“Shut up, oh my god,” Virgil complained, not even trying to hide his laughter. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright, alright, I concede," Roman smiled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"I just kind of realized that I've been feeling different lately,” he started, causing Roman to immediately stiffen and lean back to see Virgil's face. Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes fondly. “I just told you nothing's wrong, chill babe."

"You telling me to chill out is quite ironic, methinks," Roman teased, relaxing back into the hammock. “It's not my fault you're rubbing off on me, Frank Fear-o.”

Virgil snorted a laugh at the nickname before he continued.

"Ever since we said it, I've just felt... better," he spoke, a soft smile on his face. "I don't even know how to explain it, it's just...better. I get headaches less, when I get anxious, it turns into panic attacks like half as much."

He paused as Roman's lips met his temple.

"And I think the strangest thing is," he spoke, propping himself up on his forearm to look down at his boyfriend

below him. “When you told me you loved me, I didn't doubt it for a second."

Roman gave a short, watery chuckle; his eyes tearing up just a little.

"Even just a year ago, I wouldn't've believed anybody who said that to me but you," he paused, reaching to squish Roman's cheeks with one hand until they both laughed. "I knew you'd never lie to me, but more than anything, I felt it."

He leaned in, intending to only steal a quick kiss before it swiftly escalated.

“Who knew you were such a sap?" Roman teased, breathing heavily as they eventually broke apart.

“Says you, Romeo."

“Oh, I wear that badge with pride, darling," he beamed. "According to Thomas' Twitter, I'm his 'simp' side."

Virgil snorted, laying back down as he leaned into Roman's shoulder.

"Okay, they're definitely right about that one,” he mumbled, ruffling the other’s curly hair affectionately. “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger and you can’t even deny it.”

Roman grabbed one of said fingers and brought it to his lips, planting a dramatic, drawn-out kiss with the most exaggerated noise he could.

“But of course!” He bellowed, earning a fond eye roll from his boyfriend. “For it is my only duty to bestow upon you all of the love one can possibly muster.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got a few other duties, babe,” he challenged with a smirk. “Like maybe the concept pitch for the next scripted video that you haven’t done, or the notes for the editors, or the fact that Thomas hasn’t even picked up his ukulele since last year, or—“

“Okay! Okay, fine, I can’t devote my whole life to smothering you forever,” he agreed exasperatedly. “But if I could, I would.”

Virgil chuckled, folding his arms over Roman’s chest and resting his chin on top.

“Hmm, yeah I think I’d hate that.”

Roman gave an almost comical pout, pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nope, absolutely not, you’re not getting me with that shit,” Virgil asserted, trying to maintain a firm tone as he came dangerously close to breaking into a smile. “Smother me twenty-four seven and I’ll dump you on the spot.”

Roman pulled a disbelieving face.

“You really think I’m buying that?” He smirked. “That you’d dump me for spoiling you absolutely rotten with my sweetness.”

He knew full well what he was doing.

“I need my space, princess,” he spoke, putting on a suave tone that he knew he wasn’t pulling off by the giggles that came from his boyfriend. “I gotta’ keep up the aesthetic.”

Roman brought Virgil’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Alright, alright, I respect the commitment,” he spoke, punctuated by kisses from Virgil’s hand up to his shoulder. “It’s so tragic that Mr. Misery Business would rather brood than swoon.”

“Who says I can’t have both?” He grinned. “I’m multi-faceted these days, babe. I have layers.”

Roman snorted a laugh, ducking his head right by Virgil’s ear.

“Layers,” he spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, his hands squeezing Virgil’s sides. “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. We both have layers.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil cackled with laughter. “I hate it. I hate you, never speak to me again.”

Roman smirked, unfazed.

“But Virgil, that’s what friends do, they forgive each other.”

“One more word and you’re not getting any kisses for the rest of the week.”

“It’s already Friday.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to punish myself in the process.”

Roman flushed a little at the rare admittance of affection.

“You think you couldn’t go a full week without any kisses?”

“I mean,” Virgil spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want to find out.”

He answered with a chaste kiss to the other man’s temple. “I guess the world may never know.”

“If Logan were here right now, he’d probably try to get us to find out.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I never listen to the ol’ poindexter anyways,” Roman grinned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ahh, yes, my favorite thing about you,” Virgil teased with a sly smirk. “How you’d rather be eternally petty than have an ounce of rational thought in that pretty little head of yours.”

Roman gave an offended scoff.

“You know what, I’m just going to ignore everything you just said in favor of the fact that you called me pretty,” he defended with a humph.

“Oh, you like that?” Virgil continued teasing. “As if you don’t already know you're pretty.”

Roman feigned his innocence.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea, darling. Perhaps you’ll have to enlighten me on what you find so appealing,” he drawled, his voice syrupy sweet in a way that would’ve made Virgil weak in the knees if they weren’t currently lying on top of each other. “My cute button nose? Thick, wavy locks? Maybe my taut, round buttocks?”

Virgil barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation.

“Pull another Shrek quote out of that ass and I’ll see to it that you won’t be able to sit for a week—a full week.”

Roman froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Is…is that a threat or a promise?”

Virgil just groaned, shoving him until the hammock teetered and he panicked, clinging back onto the other man. “You’ve been spending too much time with your brother.”

“You may be right, but this is certainly more fun, I must admit,” he sighed happily.

“Just shut up and take a nap, princess.”

“As you wish, my love.”

[citadelspires]

Amphibia Oneshot Thing(I Never Claimed To Be Good At Titles)

I had an idea for a fun little story thing while I was at work over the weekend, and decided to take the time to write it up into this. In all honesty this is ridiculously self indulgent, and I wrote it late at night with no editing, beta reading, or even just looking back over it once I finished. Essentially I wrote this entirely for myself and just threw it on here in the hopes maybe a few other people might enjoy it like I do. That’s all I gotta say up front so just, here you go. (this is a long one so most of the story will be under a cut).

Anne found herself wandering around a lot of parks these days. After all her time inAmphibia sitting around in her house only made her anxious, and the city was just dull. So she would sit in the areas with the most foliage, where it always felt the most comfortable. Like one of her old adventures could come find her any second. Like she could pretend her friends were just around the corner and surely if she waited just one more second Marcy would come tumbling out of those bushes, launching right away into a rambling speech about a new plant she'd found, the perfect mix of adorable passion and somewhat interesting information that would always make Anne smile.

She knew that wasn't going to happen. She'd known and tried to force herself to get used to the idea, but even as her miserable daydream was interrupted by the rustling of the very bushes she'd imagined, she hoped for a second maybe she'd imagined it all. She hadn't of course, and the boy who pushed his way out of the bushes was anything but her Marcy. Even so, he must have noticed her solemn expression, because he immediately walked over to where she sat with a look of concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Anne was surprised by the question for a moment, then again, she realized, she probably did look pretty miserable, moping around in the dirt in a random park. She was tempted to give an offhanded reply of dismissal, she was fine and his concern was almost certainly just a polite formality. But she was never good at following through with all that smile and say Im fine stuff.

"I've been better," she sighed.

The boy in front of her frowned, and took a seat beside her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Anne blinked in surprise, not expecting that reaction. She took a second glance at the kid, wondering what his deal was. He looked a few years younger than her, probably about Sprig's age, dressed for wandering around the woods. He looked like a kid who liked an adventure, maybe that's why Anne felt like she might be able to talk to him. She couldn't say everything of course, god knows she'd need a full time therapist for all her turmoil, but maybe she could simplify it a little bit, dance around the truth slightly. Besides, the more she thought about it the more the idea of talking to a regular kid sounded nice.

"Well," she began, searching for each word and phrase carefully, "a while ago, me and my friends found this weird place. It was scary at first, and I was nervous for a bit, but after a while I grew to love it a lot. I think- I know my friends felt the same. It was a really magical place, but it, uh, well its not around anymore. And I feel like I left a part of myself with it." Anne suddenly became overwhelmingly aware that she had just poured her heart out to a random stranger, and probably sounded insane on top of it, "Ugggh I sound stupid, nevermind kid just ignore me, thanks for trying though."

She started to get up and walk away but the boy jumped up at the same time.

"Wait, hold on. I'm not sure exactly what's going on, but from the sound of it, I think I kind of get it. I've got a pretty magical place of my own, I can't imagine loosing it. I know it's not the same but, I could take you there, if that would help?"

Anne turned back to look, not sure why this kid was so eager to help, until she saw the look on his face. He just looked like a kid who wanted to help, just for the sake of being nice. In that moment he reminded her of Sprig again, and she couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Seriously? You don't even know me. You sure?"

The boy shrugged and smiled. "There's lots of cool people I don't know yet. And you seem nice. So," he reached out his hand, "my name's Craig, nice to meet you."

As weird as this was, Anne had seen weirder, so sure, why not. She took the boy's hand.

"Call me Anne."

---

As they walked Anne started to wonder where this weird kid was taking her. Sure “magical place” in her situation was fairly literal, but she didn’t think she was exactly in the most common position for a kid. Or really for anyone for that matter. Still, the boy seemed pretty excited about it, so she figured she’d give it a shot. Better than moping around in some random bushes all day. Who knows, maybe she could even get her hopes up a little bit there would at least be something cool out there.

‘Something cool’ turned out to be a tree stump. Anne wasn’t sure if the kid was serious or not when they first got to the clearing, but based on the way he jumped up on the tree base and spread his arms wide.

“Welcome to the stump!”

Anne stared at him for a few seconds, not sure how to respond. Before bursting into laughter. She just couldn’t help it. There had been so much buildup, all for, apparently a regular tree stump. Craig crossed his arms and spoke up.

“Hey, I know it doesn’t look like much, but you haven’t seen anything yet, watch this!”

Whatever he was about to do, though, was cut off by a battle cry and a flash of orange hair flying at Anne from the trees. It was pure instinct, really, when Anne dove behind cover of the stump screaming,

“It’s an ambush!”

She realized her mistake a few short seconds later. Ivy Sundew literally could not be here. So, with no small amount of hesitation, she peeked over the edge of the stump to see a small girl pointing a homemade sword at her while trying to cover up a pouting expression. Anne could vaguely make out the girl muttering under her breath about how “noble warriors don’t ‘ambush.’“

“So, uh, are you gonna put the sword down orrr...”

Anne trailed off as the girl gave her a weary glance and muttered something about ‘intruders.’ It was at this point that Craig, who seemed to have tripped and fallen off the stump in the chaos, also poked his head back up and called out,

“Kelsey, wait! She’s with me!”

The short girl’s demeanor changed immediately.

“Oh, cool! Hi Craig, hi new girl, sorry I attacked you, I thought you were a devilish intruder.”

“Don’t worry about it, I get randomly attacked a lot, it happens.”

The girl, Kelsey, apparently, looked over Anne again, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“You do? Do you need a heroic guardian to protect you?”

Well, Anne noted, maybe this girl wasn’t so similar to Ivy after all. Though she still got the feeling the two of them would get along exceptionally well. She gave Kelsey a grateful smile, but shrugged off the offer.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Kelsey nodded, seeming to finally relax, though she did pause for a moment and stare off into the distance, though to Anne it seemed more like she was probably just gazing into the depths of a random tree. She gave Craig a curious look, but he only waved it off, apparently this was just how things worked with Kelsey. Noted. When she came back down to earth Craig was waiting with a question,

“Where’s J.P.?”

“Oh he found a butterfly and then chased it into a mud puddle. It was close though so I went on ahead.” Her tone of voice suddenly changed into a much more dramatic one. “He and I both had our own battles to fight.” Before immediately going back to her normal one. “But he should be right behind me.”

Sure enough it was at  that moment another boy crawled out from the foliage outlining the clearing. This one already in a considerably messier state than either of the kids Anne had met so far. He wandered over to the stump, repeating the tale Kelsey had just told them, this time with a much higher focus on the mud puddle. He didn’t seem to notice Anne at all until she cleared her throat and waved hello. The boy, J.P. she assumed, immediately jumped with an exclamation of surprise.

“Relax J.P. she’s cool.”

Anne was a little pleased to notice this reassurance came from Kelsey this time, and didn’t miss the way Craig nodded in agreement.

“She was off by herself so I thought we could give her a tour of the creek.”

That last bit caught Anne off guard, just a bit. Up till this point she had just been assuming Craig had took her here to see the stump and his friends. She wasn’t sure how much more exciting one creek could be, but after all her time in Amphibia she wasn’t one for making too many assumptions about that kind of thing. Turning her focus back to J.P. she noticed how he looked her up and down with squinted eyes, before seeming to focus on the leaves and sticks that had (again?! seriously?!) gotten tangled in her hair, and nodding sagely.

“Good call Craig! I like her style.”

As J.P. immediately began to inspect the ground for his own leaf, which he immediately deposited snugly in his, much shorter, hair, Craig waved Anne over to the stump, where he’d rolled out a large piece of paper.

“This,” he announced proudly, “is my map of the creek!”

Anne wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a fully detailed expansive rendition of what must have been a really large area of land, complete with notations of inhabitants, activities, landmarks, and literally anything else one could find to write down, had not been it. She gave a low whistle of appreciation. Man Marcy would’ve loved this.

Craig beamed at her show of awe, allowing himself a pleased, “drew the whole thing myself” before asking, “So, where do you wanna see first?”

---

After that, Anne was pulled around the creek to all sorts of locations, each one more intricate than the last. There was an entire colony of kids in these woods, a civilization even. Even on Amphibia she had never seen anything quite like it. It was wild, and, kinda cool? The more she saw the more she started to get what Craig meant. The whole place had its own feeling to it that didn’t quite mesh with any of the surrounding area. After a while, she was even able to push (most of) the weight that had been on her shoulders for so long to the back of her mind.

Which wasn’t to say that her time in Amphibia left her completely. In all likelihood it was more inclined to have already made her a primary target for whispers and gossip to all the kids there. Though she never would’ve expected it before she’d gotten flown away from earth so long ago, she was kinda an expert at being in the woods now. Though she did slip up once or twice. For one dangerous moment there she was mortified that everyone would think she was insane when, upon being shown to the trading tree she had casually remarked,

“I don’t see why you need a whole place to trade for snacks when there are so many perfectly good bugs to eat out here.”

In her defense, she also preferred a good bag of chips over tiny dirt critters, but what could she say, she’d gotten used to a lot of weird things. While her immediate first reaction upon the words escaping her mouth had been to play it off as a lame joke(especially considering the way all the kids stared at her, some in horror, some in awe, at least one clearly wondering to themselves why they didn’t think of that first, the clearing totally silent save one kid who apparently didn’t get the memo and loudly exclaimed something Anne thought sounded like “my candy!”) her backup plan ended up being totally unnecessary as J.P. just started laughing, confidently proclaiming,

“I told y’all, she fits right in here”

And sure, maybe that made Anne smile just a little bit.

After that they had a few more people to meet, including a few girls prancing around a big open field, one of whom blushed slightly as she informed J.P. that she liked his leaf, to which J.P. gave a cheerful giggle and a thanks. (Anne considered it one of her foremost signs of character development that she didn’t break out any magazines as soon as they got back to the stump). But eventually things started to wind down, and the trio of friends, along with their new straggler, made it back to the little home base.

Anne took a few minutes to discuss the finer points of exploring woods with Craig, who had been eager to talk about it since they’d gone out earlier, while out of the corner of her eye Anne watched Kelsey do mock battle with an imagined enemy.

“You know, my little brother is much better at this stuff than I am, maybe you’d like to meet him sometime?” Though she’d posed the question to Craig, she didn’t bother to wait for an answer, as she saw Kelsey perform another made up sword move, and something occurred to her. “Hold that thought.”

Walking over to Kelsey, Anne continued to watch her form, confident enough based on where she was swinging and where her eyes were trained on that she had a pretty good idea of what the fake enemy the other girl was fighting might look like. Eventually she offered,

“You’re pretty good, but if you’re fighting something that much bigger than you, you’re gonna want to switch up your strategy a little bit.”

Without waiting for Kelsey’s reaction Anne grabbed a stick off the ground and performed a demonstration of a few moves she’d picked up in Amphibia. Though sword fighting was never something she had expected to be proficient at, she couldn’t deny that at this point she’d picked up a decent amount of skill. Once she’d finished her quick combo demonstration she turned to where Kelsey was standing, a little surprised to see a look of pure awe on the younger girl’s face, before she shouted,

“YOU KNOW HOW TO USE A REAL SWORD??????”

Anne grinned sheepishly at her excitement. “Uhhh, yeah, a little bit I guess?”

She’d barely gotten the words out before Kesley was on her, begging her to show more moves or better yet, spar with her. Anne waited for the tirade of excitement to slow down before smiling and offering,

“Sure I guess I could, but honestly my little sis knows way more about this fighting stuff than I do. If you want someone to practice with she’s your best bet. I could bring her out here some time, if you’d like.”

Kelsey’s excited nodding was interrupted by an instrument Anne couldn’t quite place, and suddenly the smaller girl’s shoulders fell in disappointment, before immediately perking back up again.

“That’s dinner, but you can bring her tomorrow! I’ll see you then!”

She waved goodbye as she rushed off, as did J.P. though with considerably less rushing, leaving just Anne and Craig, who seemed to also be on his way out. Anne figured that was just one more of the natural ways of the creek. As he left, though, Craig paused for a moment.

“I’m not sure where your special place was, but this is a pretty good one for a lot of kids here. I hope you had fun, I know we did. See you around Anne?”

Anne could tell the last bit was phrased as a question, and she paused to think, if only for a moment. Sure this was no Amphibia, and sure a lot of the stuff that had happened since Craig had tumbled out of those bushes was pretty weird. And maybe she did feel a little guilty that she was off playing around while her friends in Amphibia were, well... But still, for the first time since her birthday, Anne had gone one day where she actually felt like the 13 year old kid she was. Sooner or later she could blow their minds with magic powers and frog siblings, but for now, she was just Anne, she was just a kid. She gave a grateful smile.

“See you around, Craig of the Creek.”

[legionofpotatoes]

we decided to watch all story cutscenes from the new resident evil village videogame on a whim, since it’s not really our cup of tea gameplay-wise but seems to be this massive zeitgeist moment that made us morbidly curious. And I know how much everyone cares about my thoughts on things I know very little about, so. let’s get into it huh gamers. and yeah spoilers?

for context, I’ve only played resident evil 4 and a small portion of 5. I also read the wikipedia entry for 7’s plot recently. all this to say I was only vaguely aware of how tonally wacky the series was going in

I also completely gave up following the plot of the mutagens’ soap opera, so that paid off in spades here as you might imagine

anyway so that baby in the intro. that baby’s head is just massive. humongous toddlerdome. when ethan finds the baby’s head in a jar later on. there is no way that head would fit into that jar. bad game design. no not even game design. basic stuff. one hundred years in prison for jar modeler

if I see a single functional hetero marriage in video games I will cry tears of joy. I understand their misery is kind of The Point irt them badly working through the hillbilly romp trauma but like. sheesh. at least set that up as an emotional story goal the plot will help resolve. but nope they start off miserable and it goes nowhere

I know I know the mia thing has a huge wrinkle in it but like. not really in terms of dramatic function?? set up a happy end to the re7 nightmare (miranda can keep up appearances for all she cares) and then take that all away from angry griffin mcelroy for manpain. it will still absolutely work to set up the dramatic forward momentum. why throw in this cliche Hollywood Tension in their marriage if you’re not going to address it oh maybe because it’s normalized as automatically interesting because nuclear families are a self-propagating pit of a very narrow chance at emotional happiness relying on social stigma to preserve their empty function oops my baggage slipped in yikes abort mission

I called him griffin mcelroy because I saw his face on twitter and. yeah. I will continue to do this occasionally. my house my rules

... fuck the reason I’m hung up on this is specifically because the rest of the game is so tonally dexterous (which is a shining point to me! more on that later!), and yet they felt weirdly compelled to create the aesthetic trapping of a family-at-odds trope without following it through too well. a sign of both the good and the bad stuff to come

but listen the real reason why I wanted to talk about any of this is to nitpick the fascinating backwards-engineered nucleus of the entire thing; in that this game essentially creates a melting pot of just SO many disparate horror tropes and then makes a no-holds-barred unhinged effort at weaving thick lore to piece them all together. it is truly a sight to behold. like straight up you got your backwoods fright night situation, your gothic castle vampires, your rural-industrial werewolves, and don’t forget your bloated swamp monsters over there, with then a hard left turn into robotic body horror, and the entire ass subgenre of Creepy Doll writ large, and the bloodborne tentacle monsters, and a hellboy angel bossfight, which rides on the coattails of a mech-on-mech pacific rim bonanza, and just jesus henry christ slow down

almost all of these are textural hijack jobs that don’t really get into the metaphor plain of any of those settings but the game sort-of makes an argument that the texture IS the point and revels in it. It is kind of admirable almost. The same reason why the intro felt boxed in and unmotivated is also why the rest of the game just blasts off of its hinges to the point of complete and self-indulgent tonal abandon. I kinda loved that about it. lady dimitrescu made sure to hold her hat down as she bent forward in mahogany doorways and then suddenly she’s a giant gore dragon and you settle in your temp role as dark souls man with Gun to take her ass down. Excellent??

this rhino rampage impulse to gobble up every horror aesthetic known to man comes to head when the game wrestles with its FPS trappings in what is the most hilarious solution in creating visceral player damage moments. Since most cinematics and the entire game is in first person, that leaves precious little real estate for the devs to work with if they really want to sell griffin’s physical crucible. To wit. This dude’s forearms. Specifically just the forearms. They are MASSACRED throughout the story. The poor man lives out the silent hill dimension of a hand model. by the end cutscene he looks like a neatly dressed desk clerk who had decided to stick both his grabbers into garbage disposal grinders just a few hours prior. like in addition to everything else it manages to rope in that tinge of slapstick violence into its general grievous genre collection except this time it IS for a lack of trying! truly incredible

but wait his miracle clawbacks from everything his poor paws go through are retroactively explained away, yes, but far too vaguely and far too late to console me as I sat and watched everyone’s favorite baby brother reattach an entirely severed hand to his wrist stump by just. placing it on there. and giving it a lil twist ‘n pop terminator-style. and then willing his fingers back into motion right in front of my bulging eyes. this game just does not care. it does not give a shit. and boy howdy will it work to make that into one of its strongest suits

cause generally speaking resident evil was THE premiere vanilla zombie content destinaysh for like a decade, right? and as the rest of the world and mainstream media started encroaching and bloodying its blue ocean it went and just exploded in every single conceivable horror trope direction like a smilodon on catnip. truly, genuinely fascinating franchise moves

yeah the big vampire milf is hot. other news; grass... green. although I do love the implication that her closet is just identical white dresses on a rack. cartoon network-level queen shit

apropos of nothing I’ve said there’s also this hobo dante-devimaycry-magneto man, and I can’t believe this sentence makes sense. anyway he made that “boulder-punching asshole” joke referring to chris redfield and it was probably the only easter egg that really landed for me and boy did it land hard. I have not seen him punch the boulder in re5, mind. I had only heard about how funny it is from friends. and here this dude was, probably in the same exact mindset as me, trying to grapple with that insane mental image. with you on that ian mckellen, loud and clear

I advocate vehemently against the shallow pursuit of hyper photorealism in art direction but I gotta admit it works really in favor of immersive horror like this. the european village shacks especially gave me super unchill flashbacks to my rural countryside retreat in western georgia. I could smell the linoleum dude. not cool

faces are weird in this game. can’t place it. nice textures, good animation, but the modeling template is... uuh strange? and the hair. it has that clustered-flat-clumpy look that harkens to something very specific and unpleasant but I just don’t know what. sue me

griffin’s mental aptitude to take all this shit in stride and end every seemingly traumatizing bossfight involving some fucking eldritch being yet unseen through mortal eyes by essentially throwing out an MCU quip is just. What the fuck dude? I mean that was funny how you casually yelled the f-word at a god damn werewolf that you considered a fairy tale an hour ago but are you like, all right?? it was swinging a sledgehammer the size of a bus at you, ethan

oh oh the vampires are afraid of cold and your last name is winters. I get it haha

Pro Gamer Nitpick: boss fights seemed a bit unnecessarily long?? idk why the youtuber we picked decided the ENTIRE propeller man fight counted towards the vital story scenes he was stitching together, but man mr big daddy lite there really had some get up and go huh??

why are they saying dimitrescu.. like that. is it really how you say that word or is the english language relapsing into its fetish for ending every single word with a consonant at all costs

I’m not saying it’s a dramatic miss of a twist in context of all that’s going on, but the “you died in the last game actually and have been DC’s clayface ever since” revelation is low-key. it’s. it’s just funny to me, I dont know what to say. century-old god-witch fails her evil plan after she mistakenly removes heart from what was definitely NOT just some white guy with eight fingers after all

chris realizing he’s about to become the player character and immediately swapping out his tsundere trenchcoat for the muscletight sex haver sweater

the little bluetooth speaker-sized pipe bomb he taped to his knife was nuclear?? really??? I must have missed something because that is just too good. I buy it though I totally buy it. chris just got them fun-sized nukes in his car trunk for, you guessed it, Situations

anyway this is all for now just wanted to briefly touch on how unexpectedly funny and tonally irreverent this seemingly serious game turned out to be. did not articulate any cathartic story beats whatsoever but my god it had fun connecting those plot points. he just fucking put his severed hand back on his stump and it Just Worked todd howard get in here

[aka-indulgence]

Hey, this hasn’t happened in a long time. Stress headache for writing. Guess its time to write a small fluff once again,

Also with my favorite skeletons because I want multiple skeletons shhhhh it’s just pure self-indulgence without any rhyme or reason to why anything happens...

Ice cream. Cookies. Milk. Chips. Chocolate bars.

All things that you shove into your basket as you walk around the convenient store with a scowl on your face, biting your lip so you don’t scream and cause everyone around you to think you’re crazy. You’re just getting everything you think you want, to treat yourself after feeling so... so... much!

You feel your heart speed up just thinking about it and you squeeze the handles of the basket hard enough that it starts to bend.

Ugh, I just wanna go HOME, you cry in your head as you wait in line.

You’re just stopping yourself from tapping your foot restlessly when your eyes spot a surprise near the registers.

Candy cigarettes?

...

Oh what the hell.

You throw them into the basket too. You’ve never tried it, but it looks like something fun to show at home and surprise the guys.

You put up a pleasant face for the cashier (no need to make a retailer’s job even more miserable) and happily decline the plastic bag. One good thing that happened today: you remembered your reusable bag!

It’s certainly something? To cool your temper.

You walk out and you’re back to walking fast to get home as fast as possible, almost checking shoulders with people when you think the ones in front of you are walking too slow for your current mood. You see your home in the distance, thank god, and make a little sprint towards it, half-hoping a little bit of TLC once you’re there.

You peek in the window as you go to the door, and though you don’t see anyone, you shrug and attempt to bowl over the door, only to curse up a storm when you find that it’s locked, of course. After more hissing and quiet yelling at the handle that dare get in the way your angry relaxation time at home, you shuffle your keys out, haphazardly unlock the door and slip inside- slamming the door just a little harder than you should’ve and march towards the sofa.

(After throwing your jacket, your shoes and socks, and your whole bag on the floor next to the door.)

“(y/n)...?” You hear Snow’s voice from the kitchen as you throw yourself into the cushions, bouncing a bit while the contents of your bags jumped with you.

“Hey Snow,” You say while you make a “pbbbff...” noise with your lips, turning on the TV to look for... you don’t know what, just something to take your mind off things.

Just his voice cools your chest.

You take out the bag of chips and rip it clumsily, with some of the chips tumbling out of it and onto the floor. You make another exasperated noise but make no move to clean up the mess, instead choosing to shove a mouthful of chips into your mouth.

(To be honest, you’re not even properly eating the chips. Just... biting it harder than you needed to, making more of an angry mess on your crinkled shirt.)

Maybe you’re doing it to get attention, you don’t know. You just feel so “aaeghegshrg”.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to make even more of a fool out of yourself, and you see a shadow fall over you from behind.

You sigh when your frustrations simmer down at just the idea of him being there for you... you really weren’t the kind to hold onto anger for too long.

“is... something the matter...?” Snow’s gentle voice comes from behind you, soothing you even more.

You make another sigh, but you look up to him with tired eyes. “Yeah. But it’s hard to say... I’m just not in a good mood... sorry.” You apologize bashfully, feeling silly when you see the mess you’ve made. You hear Snow chuckle, his deep voice shaking your core, making you want to drown in it. The big skeleton rounds the sofa and sits beside you (where the bag isn’t), and his weight pulls you a bit towards him.

“don’t be sorry.” He smiles at you, his sockets crinkled. “is there... anything i can do...?”

Feeling his warmth right there, you start leaning into his chest. “You’re already doing plenty. Just having you here makes me sleepy.” You titter. “Uh. Not in the bad way, I just... I feel relaxed already. I think I’m just tired, I don’t wanna feel... I dunno, spiky?”

“isn’t that red’s thing?”

The new voice surprises you enough to blink your eyes open (you really were starting to doze off on Snow’s chest) and sit up. You look to the darkened hallway (as the sun was setting and the lights haven’t been turned on yet), and see a pair of white lights, until you see the blue-clad skeleton that emerges out of the shadows. It’d be a good horror movie scene if he didn’t look so.... like Sans. Relaxed grin, lazy sockets, slouching a bit, pink slippers shuffling against the floor.

“hey...” Sans starts, his eyelights darting to the chips on the floor. “my little shoulder-chip. what’s wrong?”

“she said she feels... spiky,” Snow repeats as you nibble on a big chip, letting his knuckles ghost your cheek. You don’t say a thing, so he keeps on going.

“mind if i make some space?” Sans points to the bag and you make a little nod, and Sans moves it to the coffee table and sits beside you.

“I dunno... i’ve just been feeling like... this,” You say emphatically, pointing to the chip in your hand. “I feel... like a potato. Just... I dunno... stuck? I don’t know, I just feel,” you make vague, aggressive hand gestures in the air, and slump back down. “Like that,”

Sans takes a breath to say something, but you’re all suddenly aware of the sound of a... clang?? Somewhere outside the house, a door being thrown open.... the heavy steps of feet as someone’s running towards you-

“ilikepotatoes.” Red’s voice suddenly breaks into the room, as all three of you turn your heads around to where he is in the hallway, panting and sweating a bit, his grin a bit too wide with his eyelights dilated in his sockets. He’s sweating.

“Red... how,” You breathe, “Did you even hear that?? Also why did you run here?”

“... dramatic effect?” Red shrugs as he saunters easily to the sofa. “anyways, what i’m saying is,” He says as he folds his arm on the back of the sofa behind you, “i like potatoes. in fact i jus’ love to eat ‘em.”

He bounces his brows at you. “what i’m sayin’ is, if yer a potato, i’d love to-”

“oh my god shut up red,” Sans covers his face with both of his hands, apparently blue in the face from embarassment.

“ey i’m tryna make the girl blush what’re ya-?”

“that’s so stupid i’m getting second hand embarrassment,”

“oh fuck you.”

The exchange gets a giggle out of you, and all three skeletons get a spark in their eyelights.

“Ok, so I’ve been feeling pretty... ehhh today, but this is turning things around,” You smile, looking at the dumbasses while you lean on Snow.

“that’s good to know,”

“i aim t’ please, sweetheart.”

Snow sits up a bit more, bringing you with him, and points to the plastic bag on the table. “so... what’s all that?”

“Oh,” you blush a little, feeling a bit embarrassed for all the things you’ve bought. “It was... an impulse thing. i wasn’t feeling so great, so I wanted to buy everything I wanted to eat. There’s ice cream, candy, chips, just... a bunch of snacks. Oh, I also found candy cigarettes in the store,”

“what,” Red immediately sounds behind you, his smug expression now just a baffled huh???

“the fuck’s candy cigarettes? d’ya... smoke candy ‘r some shit?” Red asks incredulously, prompting a hearty laugh from you. “aw c’mon doll i gotta know!”

“Well,” you start to explain-

“humans’re weird.” Sans says plainly, fishing out said snack from the bag.

He gives it a shake, and you see Red’s eyelights dilate at the sound.

“I mean, don’t pretend like monsters aren’t,” you say as you take the box out of Sans’ hands, “this aren’t like actual cigarettes, Red. They’re just candies that look like cigarettes, so when you put them in your mouth to eat it it looks like you’ve got a cigarette in your mouth. They also have powders inside of them you can inhale and exhale so it looks like smoke... I read kids used to love them exactly for that reason? i don’t know what they taste like,”

You took one more look at the packing and tilt your head. “Oh... it’s chocolate cigarettes, so this one’s just... milk chocolate in the shape of a cigarette,”

“c’mon open ‘em, i’ve never seen ya with a cig darlin’,” Red chuckles, a playful expression on his skull.

You take out the old-timey box and open it. Inside as about 12 “cigarettes” all wrapped in paper. The chocolate sticking out of the ends does make it look like a cigarette. You pull it out and look at the three skeletons, expectations on their faces...

And you stick it into your mouth, moving away from Snow to sit back on the couch and put on your most stereotypical “criminal look” as you put your arms on the back of the couch and fold your leg over the other.

...

“Ey...” you say with a hint of confusion, taking out the chocolate to blow nothing into the air.

“HAH-” Red barks out behind you, slapping his teeth with his bony hand with a clack, doubling over behind the sofa while his shoulders bounced erratically, wheezing as he tries to hold in his laugh.

His absolute giddiness at seeing you with a “cigarette” in your mouth only makes the rest of you giggle and chortle, unrestrained, and the cigarette almost pokes into your throat when you accidentally breathed the whole stick into your mouth.

“Pweh-” You spit out the cigarette (it still had the paper on!) and laugh when you see Red, still unable to pull himself together as he looks like he’s actually struggling to breathe. “It wasn’t that funny!” You tell him, but your own chest is shaking when you see how Red looks like he’s dying.

“i... ha, i don’t fuck’n know!” Red unfolds himself and puts a hand on his chest as he tries to control himself. “i didn’t expect ya t’ say ‘ey...’ heheh... hehahah!”

You unwrap the chocolate from its papery confines and pop it in your mouth, biting it in two so you could chew on it. You take deep breaths before you swallow to make sure you don’t choke on it.

“gimme one of those,” Red reaches over you and takes a cigarette, propping it in between his teeth. He then proceeds to take a few steps back, leaning against the wall. He closes his sockets as he takes a “hit” and makes... the weirdest shape with his mouth (like he was trying to close his ‘lips’ while he was trying to withhold a smile) and makes a pout to exaggerate him “blowing smoke out”. He then keeps that weird mouth shape as he lids his sockets (one was lower than the other what the fuck,) and you watch the edges of his grin bend upwards.

“eyyyYYyyYy.” Red says, mimicking you.

You practically end up crying from how stupid everything is (why are you even laughing? It’s not supposed to be funny!) and the four of you end up on the couch poking fun at each other while eating all the snacks you’ve bought, until eventually Snow stands up to make a real meal for the lot of you.

You forget all about your stresses for the rest of the night, and even fall asleep with a smile on your face.

[gayenerd]

I just realized I didn’t post that 2007 Rolling Stone article I posted about here. 

Billie Joe Armstrong

The Green Day leader talks Bush, Britney and being a middle-aged punk for our 40th anniversary.

DAVID FRICKE

Posted Nov 01, 2007 8:19 AM

You have two young sons. What kind of America will they inherit?

This war has to finish before something new blossoms. There's no draft — that's why none of the kids give a shit. They'd rather watch videos on YouTube. It's hard to tell what's next — there is so much information out there with no power to it. Everything is in transition, including our government. Next year, it's someone else in the White House. There's no way to define anything. It's Generation Zero. But you gotta start at zero to get to something.

Is there anyone now running for president who gives you hope for the future?

Barack Obama, but it's a bit early to tell if this is the guy I like. I get sick of the religious-figure thing. People don't question their rulers, these political figures, just as they don't question their ministers and priests. They're not going to question George Bush, especially if he goes around talking about God — "I'm going to let God decide this for me. He's going to give me the answer." The fear of God keeps people silent.

When did you first vote in a presidential election?

In 1992. I was twenty. I voted for Clinton.

Did you feel like you made a difference?

Yeah. The Eighties sucked. There was so much bullshit that went along with that decade. I felt like Clinton was a fresh face with fresh ideas. There were times when he was dropping bombs, and I'm thinking, "What the fuck are you doing?" But he became a target. We have this puritanical vision of what a leader is supposed to be, and that's what makes us the biggest hypocrites in the world. We got so inside this guy's sexual habits. Now we have a president going around, killing in the name of what? In the name of nothing.

What did you accomplish with your 2004 anti-Bush album, "American Idiot"? He was re-elected anyway, and the war in Iraq is still going on.

I found a voice. There may have been people disenfranchised by it. People have a hard time with that kind of writing: "Why are you preaching to me?" It does sound preachy, a bit. I'm a musician, and I want to say positive things. If it's about self-indulgent depression or overthrowing the government, it's gotta come from my heart. And when you say "Fuck George W. Bush" in a packed arena in Texas, that's an accomplishment, because you're saying it to the unconverted.

Do you think selling nearly 6 million copies of that album might have an effect on the 2008 election? A kid who bought it at fifteen will be voting age next year.

I hope so. I made it to give people a reason to think for themselves. It was supposed to be a catalyst. Maybe that's one reason why it's difficult for me to write about politics now. A lot of things on that record are still relevant. It's like we have this monarchy in politics — the passing of the baton between the Clintons and the Bushes. That's frightening. What needs to happen is a complete change, a person coming from the outside with a new perspective on all the fucked-up problems we have.

How would you describe the state of pop culture?

People want blood. They want to see other people thrown to the lions. Do audiences want rock stars? I can't tell. You have information coming at you from so many areas — YouTube, the Internet, tabloids. Watching Britney Spears the other night [on the MTV Video Music Awards] was like watching a public execution. How could the people at MTV, the people around her, not know this girl was fucked up? People came in expecting a train wreck, and they got more than they bargained for.

She was a willing conspirator. She didn't say no.

She is a manufactured child. She has come up through this Disney perspective, thinking that all life is about is to be the most ridiculous star you could be. But it's also about what we look at as entertainment — watching somebody go through that.

How do you decide what your children can see on TV or the Internet? As a dad, even a punk-rock dad, that can make you conservative in your choices.

I want to protect them from garbage. It's not necessarily the sex and drugs. It's bad drugs and bad sex, the violence you see on television and in the news. I want to protect them from being desensitized. I want them to realize this is real life, not a video game.

The main thing I want them to have is a good education, because that's something I never had. Get smart. Educate yourself as much as you can, and get as much out of it, even if the teacher is an asshole.

Do you regret dropping out of high school?

Life in high school sucks. I bucked the system. I also got lucky. My wife has a degree in sociology, and there are conversations she has — I don't have a fucking clue what they're talking about. College — I could have learned from that.

But I was the last of six kids. At that point, my mother was fifty-eight, and she threw up her hands — "I'm through with this parenting thing." Also, I could not handle authority figures. But I wouldn't say I'm an authority figure for my kids. I provide guidelines, not rules.

What is it like being a middle-aged punk? Isn't that a contradiction in terms?

It's about the energy you bring with you, the pulse inside your head. I want to get older. I don't want to be twenty-one again. Screw that. My twenties were a difficult time — where my band was at, getting married, having a child. I remember walking out of a gig in Chicago, past these screaming kids. There were these punks, real ones, sitting outside our tour bus. One girl had a forty-ouncer, and she goes, "Billie Joe, come drink with us." I said, "I can't, I've got my family on the bus." She goes, "Well, fuck you then." I get on the bus, and my wife says, "Did that bitch just tell you to fuck off? I'm gonna kick her ass right now." I'm holding her back, while my child is naked, jumping on the couch: "Hi, Daddy!" That was my whole life right there — screaming kids, punks telling me to fuck off, my wife getting pissed, my naked son waiting to get into his pajamas.

There's nothing wrong with being twenty-one. It's the lessons you learn. At thirty, you think, "Why did I worry so much about this shit?" When I hit forty, I'll say the same thing: "Why did I worry about this shit in my thirties?"

What have you learned about yourself?

There is more to life than trying to find your way through self-destruction or throwing yourself into the fire all the time. Nihilism in punk rock can be a cliché. I need to give myself more room to breathe, to allow my thoughts to catch up with the rest of me.

Before Dookie, I wasn't married and I didn't have kids. I had a guitar, a bag of clothes and a four-track recorder. There are ways you don't want to change. You don't want to lose your spark. But I need silence more than I did before. I need to get away from the static and noise, whereas before, I thrived on it.

Are you ready for the end of the music business? The technology and its effect on sales have changed dramatically since Green Days' debut EP — on vinyl — in 1989.

Technology now and the way people put out records — everything comes at you so fast, you don't know what you're investigating. You can't identify with it — at least I can't. With American Idiot, we made a conscious effort to give people an experience they could remember for the rest of their lives. It wasn't just the content. It was the artwork, the three acts — the way you could read it all like someone's story.

Is music simply not important to young people now the way it was to you as a kid?

People get addicted to garbage they don't need. At shows, they gotta talk on their phones to their friend who's in the next aisle. I was watching this documentary on Jeff Tweedy of Wilco [Sunken Treasure]. He was playing acoustic, and he ends up screaming at the audience: "Your fucking conversation can wait. I'm up here singing a song — get involved." He wasn't being an asshole. He was like, "Leave your bullshit behind. Let's celebrate what's happening now."

We need music, and we need it good. I took it very seriously. There's a side of me where music will always send chills up my spine, make me cry, make me want to get up and do Pete Townshend windmills. In a lot of ways, I was in a minority when I was young. There are people who go, "Oh, that's a snappy tune." I listen to it and go, "That's the greatest fucking song ever. That is the song I want played at my funeral."

Now that you've brought it up, what song do you want played at your funeral?

It keeps changing. "Life on Mars?" by David Bowie. "In My Life," by the Beatles. "Love," by John Lennon.

Those are all reflective ballads, not punk.

I disagree. They are all honest in their reflection. The punk bands I liked were the ones who didn't fall into clichés — the Clash, the Ramones. The Ramones wrote beautiful love songs. They also invented punk rock. I'd have to add "Blitzkrieg Bop" to the list.

What is the future of punk rock? Will it still be a voice of rebellion in twenty years?

It's categorized in so many different ways. You've got the MySpace punks. But there is always the subculture of it — the rats in the walls, pounding the pavement and booking their own live shows. It comes down to the people who are willing to do something different from everybody else.

You are in a different, platinum-album world now. What makes you so sure that spirit survives?

I'm going on faith — because I was there. Gilman Street [the Berkeley, California, club where Green Day played early shows] is still around. And that's a hard task, because there is no bar — it's a nonprofit cooperative. It's like a commune — this feeling of bucking the system together, surviving and thriving on art. Punk, as an underground, pushes for the generation gap. As soon as you're twenty-five years old, there's a group of sixteen-year-olds coming to kick your ass. And you have to pass the torch on. It's a trip to have seen it happen so many times. It gives me goose bumps — punk is something that survives on its own.

[memoriashell]

not entirely present in mind ( but sentimentally, feelings are always the same )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru, ft. WoH in the bg

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day 4 of tokomaru week!! shopping and night out prompts. the warriors of hope get mentioned in the bg as their kids but don't feature heavily in this fic.

tws for abuse / trauma mentions, touko is also slightly out of character because she's drunk ( they are both responsible adults and are safe the entire time! )

Summary:  sometimes it's nice to have a night to themselves.

When you have five kids to look after, it’s rare to for them get a moment to herself. Or a moment with her wife. Much less a night to go out. Well, it’s not like they don’t get to go out with the kids. In fact, she might let them indulge in that perhaps a little too often— or so Touko argues but can’t actually find it in her to say no to. Her point being that they do not get to go out by themselves. That’s usually the case, at least.

Which is why when Touko casually brings up the fact that she finally sealed a deal on her latest manuscript, Komaru uses that as an excuse for them to go out and celebrate. Their anniversary roughly over is a month away anyways, might as well kill two birds with one stone because god knows they will probably be too busy with the kids to actually remember to do much of anything. Not that they really need to, she knows how much they love each other regardless! It’s just fun to have an extra excuse to celebrate.

( And don’t get her wrong: she loves her all five of her kids— most days— she really, really does. And she’s happy she can have the opportunity to raise these kids with her wife, and show both them and her wife what a good, loving family looks like. But it also tires her out to take care of five children, along with her own job, and sometimes they need to take a brief break from it.

...Okay it’s also because Makoto owes her a favor, and she’s very eager to cash in on that favor by getting her brother to help keep an eye on the kids for one evening. It’ll be fine. The kids love him? )

Touko rolls her eyes at her and tells her that she’s being unnecessarily dramatic about all of this when she informs her of their plans, once she works out the details. But Komaru can see the blush that accompanies this and knows that she’s won her over and considers that her personal victory. The only condition she has is to make sure her brother is not the only one watching the kids, which: yeah, fair enough, five kids was hard enough with two of them; so she just asks Makoto to make sure he’s not the only one watching the kids.

She knows Touko hates dressing up nice when they go out— she hardly likes dressing up for her own press releases, and those are like actually important events, so she makes sure it's a pretty casual thing. Most of their outings have always tended to be fairly relaxed, and she thinks both of them prefer it that way. The bare minimum of make-up on her face accompanies one of her nicer outfits; which is still a notable effort on her part, but doesn’t make too big of a deal about it.

( She can deduce that Syo probably had a hand in that choice, and just hopes they hadn’t bothered her about it too much. They’re usually good at recognizing limits, and if nothing else, she doesn’t like assuming the worst of their intentions )

Dinner goes well, once she can get Touko to feel less self-concious about herself. Not that it’s a bad thing that she is, it’s not her fault, and she knows she’s trying her best; it’s just more enjoyable when she doesn’t have to worry as much about how she’s feeling. Alright, the glass(es) of wine that she’d had might have also helped with that, but she seems to be handling it pretty well, so she’s not too worried. Even when it became apparent that some of her anxiety had been amplified by the alcohol, but again she seems to be handling it okay. She’s only slightly tipsy...okay, maybe a little more than slightly, but they’re responsible adults. Or, uh, have to be because Masaru won’t take to them being drunk well, and bringing up that trauma is not something she wants to do. And also because technically they’re supposed to grab groceries on the way home. Not exactly the most romantic end to a date night, but sacrifices must be made.

Now only if Komaru could convince her wife to let go of her long enough for her to go shopping, keeping her voice low as not to disturb her too much. “You could nap off some of the alcohol here in the car while I go shopping?”

“Noooo...” She whines around the bottle of water in her mouth, free hand gripping to her arm like her life depends on it. Komaru can easily pry her off, but she’d rather not do that. “Don’t leave...leave me alone. If I do...you won’t c-come back.”

That melts her heart a little. In like, a sad way; being reminded of her wife’s deep-rooted insecurities is never a nice thing. Komaru taps her wedding ring, which effectively gets her attention after a few minutes. “This is pretty good proof that I’m going to come back, right? But if you don’t feel like sleeping, you can come inside. You think you can handle sitting in the cart?”

“Uh huh. I...can sit fine, d-d-dumbass.” Touko responds in a very unconvincing way, but it does get her to let go at the very least.

“M’kay. Let me get out, so I can help you.”

“Can do...get it myself.” She argues, but also makes no effort to do anything other than sip at her water. For good measure, Komaru grabs a second bottle to slip into her purse; in case she manages to down all of that while they’re inside. She lets her lean against the side of the car while she grabs a cart, and watches her halfway launch herself into a flip to get over the side of the cart. Which was more Syo like behavior, so she figures they might be co-fronting? It wouldn’t be anything she wasn’t used to, but she should probably keep a close eye on them just in case.

“You’re okay?” She asks just to be sure, reaching out to brush the hair out of her face carefully and laughs softly at the way Touko tries to lean into her hand.

“Mhm...I love you.” Her voice is a soft murmur, and yeah it’s not anything she hasn’t heard before, but it still warms her heart to hear. It’s moments like these that make it hard for her to understand why people think so horribly of her. Most people don’t get to see this side of her ( usually, this is more like how she is early in the mornings and late at night, half asleep and vulnerable ) and see how loving she is— scared of loving and being loved. Touko has so much love, she knows the way she loves her and her friends and their kids and knows she is not the person people say she is, that her insecurities make her think she is. Komaru hates knowing all that because she deserves all that love and more, and makes sure she knows it as she presses her lips to the top of her head.

“I love you too! Are you sure you’re up to shopping though? You really don't gotta come with.” If it wasn’t for the fact she knows the kids won’t have breakfast in the morning if she doesn’t go shopping tonight, she’d honestly just call it a night and grab groceries another time.

Though truthfully, shopping with her drunk wife is still less of a hassle than trying to shop with any number of kids. Making sure they stay out of trouble is a chore within itself, and she’s thankful that’s not the case tonight.

“I’m...‘m good. Just go slow..?”

“I can do that.” She beams, even if she thinks that wasn't entirely necessary for her to mention— okay maybe she’s guilty of cart coasting down aisles with her feet off the ground, but that’s just to please the kids. She knows better than to do that with her drunk wife. Probably. She thinks she would realize it is a bad idea to do so ( on account of her getting sick ) before she would actually do so, at least.

Now it’s just a matter of trying to remember where she put their shopping list. It was more convenient to have it typed up on her phone, but it's easier for everyone to add onto if they just leave a notepad specifically for this. Even if on more than one occasion she’s flipped over a shopping list to find several paragraphs of something Touko has no recollection of writing ( that isn’t Syo either ), or realized that Jataro has doodled over half the list without meaning to.

She finally recalls which pocket she’d put it in for safekeeping, and they can get going. Slowly, adding things to the cart...and on top of her wife’s lap. Not that Touko seems to notice, since the next time Komaru checks on her she’s just staring straight up at her, face red. She’s so cute? She seems to realize that she’s got her attention, since she reaches up to tug on her sleeve. “Kotoko and Masaru w-wanted fruit snacks, right...? Don’t forget...”

“Already got it, don’t worry. Made sure to grab the vitamins too.” She reassures, a bit impressed that she manages to be that coherent in recalling that, gently prying her hand from her sleeve; holding it in hers for a moment before carefully dropping her hand back down to rest in her lap. She continues shopping in silence, making sure to double-check the list for anything else she might have missed— or at least make sure she’s not missing anything important.

After a while she has to stop again, when she realizes Touko’s trying to mumble something to her, leaning down to hear her. “Don’t forget the...the fish.”

Komaru’s brows crinkle in confusion. “Fish? Like, the fish snacks, or...?” She doesn’t have anything on the list that matches that description, nor does she remember the kids bringing up any requests along those lines.

“N-Noooo...” She starts to shake her head and then immediately looks like she regrets that choice. “Like, like the ones that go in a tank. Like the kids asked.”

It takes Komaru a minute to figure out what she’s trying to get at, and bites back a snort. “That’s not something we can get at the supermarket. Or that we’re taking care of tonight.”

( To elaborate: the kids recently brought up the prospect of having a pet. With varying degrees of effectiveness. To which they’d said they’d think about, mostly because again, they have their hands full with their kids as it is— but also on the basis that five kids do not agree on any one thing easily, and she can only imagine how much it will take them to agree on one pet. Komaru thinks it’s cute that even while drunk, she manages to be mindful of the kids )

“Oh. Thank fucking god.” She mutters. “I don’t want to be a mother this young.”

This one she has to laugh at, because there’s no way she can stifle herself this time: mostly because, while the implication might seem bad, she knows that’s far from what’s probably happening here ( not consciously, at any rate, she knows she’d had more than her fair share of concerns when the topic of adopting the kids had came up ). “Sweetheart, we are already parents...?”

“Oh...” Touko says, drunken awe in her expression, like this hadn’t occurred to her. “I g-g-guess you’re right...not the same.”

Komaru pats her gently, a smile curling at her lips. She’s curious about what she means by that, but she’ll leave that for another time. “Mhm, sure. Let’s get going, okay?”

There’s nothing inherently romantic about ending a date night by taking care of her drunk wife while doing grocery shopping, but it’s still a nice end to a good night— even if they both end up forgoing doing anything further that night, and just go straight to bed once they get home.

[vangoghmusings]

a/n: hello! i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now since im a huge astrology nerd (so i know what im talking about teehee)  so this is male match-ups according to sign and compatibility. this isn’t my usual kind of writing so i hope you guys like it!! <3 if you don’t know your sign check here  

this took me so long oh my god i hope you guys like it 

taglist: @mixfi @lilacskyura @katsuhoee ​ @moonlightinsanity​ @anime-waifuuu @iiminibattlehero @leeeah-loooser​ @bby-chloe1999​ @verymuchbabey @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that@unknownweeabo @cookednoodlez @helloshoutohere @star-mum​ @izuku-sakura​ @thegalxe

UA STUDENTS

Katsuki Bakugou- April 20; Taurus

the absolute SHOCK in my face to learn he wasn’t an aries

it would be expected that katsuki is a fire sign, like cmon look at his quirk

but taurus is actually an earth sign 

taurus are typically seen as quite calm, but,, 

katsuki does seem like a true taurus in many ways

they can be stubborn and unwilling to compromise 

they are very realistic 

HATE FEELING INSECURE

they are often great at cooking and love to shop 

i feel like katsuki isn’t a self indulgent shopper but would buy anything for his s/o 

taurus are really good at working with their hands ;) 

theyre soft romantic bbs and as much as katsuki hates being vulnerable he’d definetly be a softie with his s/o 

id match katsuki with a calm pisces

Izuku Midoria- July 15; Cancer

i am not shocked at ALL to see that the lil broccoli boy is a cancer

like cmon he’s so sensitive 

he is a cancer to the T

he’s loyal, emotional, imaginative 

he also carries the negative traits of many cancers

such as feeling insecure and having difficulty taking criticism 

i mean the kid breaks his bones to prove others wrong 

cancers love being with their friends and family 

and they love helping others

the career of a hero would be natural for cancers

cancers are such sweet babies and izuku fits right into that category 

i would match izuku with a chill taurus 

Tenya Iida- August 22; Leo 

i didn’t expect tenya to be a leo but im also not surprised 

leos are often seen as flashy and arrogant 

but they’re more than their stereotype

leos are passionate and natural born leaders

like cmon class rep! 

tenya being a leo makes a lot of sense 

he’s generous and kind and always strives for the best 

they tend to be a bit dramatic, and tenya can be too 

being that leos are a fire sign they gravitate to self growth

this can be seen in tenya wanting to improve and challenging himself 

leos struggle facing harsh realities, similarly to tenya when he learned about what happened to tensei 

leos are known for their bravery and tenya fits right in

i would match tenya with a kind aquarius 

Shoto Todoroki- January 11; Capricorn 

i practically screamed when i realized shoto was a capricorn 

it just makes way too much sense 

they’re responsible, well-mannered, respectful !!!!

HOW IS HE SO HOT AND RESPECTFUL

capricorns i just,, i love them, truly 

shoto is no exception 

they love family, things of quality, traditions 

and their dislikes vary from day to day

why?

cause they’re iconic thats why 

however, capricorns aren’t always the nicest 

they tend to be condescending and can often come off as rude 

they’re incredibly unforgiving *ahem endeavor ahem* 

but, its because they just have naturally high standards 

it makes sense that he is an earth sign because he’s super grounded 

because saturn rules capricorn, the tend to seem cold and distant at times

but they are incredibly loyal friends and always strive for the best 

i would match shoto with a down to earth cancer

Mashiro Ojiro- May 28; Gemini 

i must admit, i was surprised to learn ojiro is a gemini

but if you really look at his character it makes a lot of sense 

gemini’s have a bad rep of being too faced

they’re actually one of my favorite signs!!

gemini’s are are gentle and affectionate 

and sweet bb ojiro is exactly that 

however they also tend to be quite anxious, another thing ojiro happens to be at times as well 

they’re very adaptable people

this can be seen throughout ojiro’s training and how much he learns and is willing to continue striving for 

gemini’s are very sociable and will talk to almost anyone 

like, he doesn’t see hagakure but they’re still good friends 

this is why i think ojiro would do great with a fire sign 

i would match ojiro with a cheerful sagittarius 

Denki Kaminari- June 29; Cancer 

alright cancer number two!! 

to be honest, denki doesn’t really give cancer vibes 

but, his personality traits align to much of what a cancer is 

tenacious and loyal 

and denki is definitely that 

however, cancers can be suspicious of others and their actions

and denki feels like the kind of guy to snoop on somebody 

but we gotta give denki some credit 

cancers strive to be there for their friends no matter what

denki shows this in the usj attack when he protects momo and jiro 

cancers tend to avoid conflict but even so, they search for conflict in those who pose bigger threats to them

similarly to when denki makes fun of bakugou even though he could totally blow him up 

denki is a chatty and flirty baby 

and cancers tend to be most compatible with earth signs 

buuut i think denki would be better suited with a fire sign 

i’d match denki with an outgoing aries 

Hanta Sero- July 28; Leo 

at first i was like hmmm no 

but then i used my brain and i was like actually yes 

leos are prideful and while sero doesn’t seem like the boastful kind, he does have a lot of pride in himself 

leos are very committed to their goals and sero’s actions show his dedication to becoming a hero 

leos are also so funny?? and sero is literally one of the funniest guys of 1A 

sero is one of the most sociable in the class and a total class clown 

leos are almost always seen with their friends and sero is no different 

sero’s vibes are just immaculate in my opinions 

so his s/o needs to match the energy 

i would match sero with a funny gemini 

Eijiro Kirishima- October 16; Libra

GOD IT JUST MAKES SO MUCH SENSE 

I CANT EVEN EXPRESS

THE ACCURACY

ok ok but seriously, of course kiri is a libra 

libras are diplomatic, fair, and strive for justice 

aka being MANLY is in the stars for bb kiri 

however, libras aren’t the most confident people 

they’re quite insecure and pity themselves a’lot 

which makes sense that its canon that it took kiri so long to accept his quirk 

have you ever wondered why kiri is so hot and cute and perfect?

ITS BECAUSE HES A LIBRA

im not even kidding

libras are known for being physically attractive 

i mean libra is literally ruled by venus

who else is venus?

APHRODITE AKA THE GODDESS OF LOVE

long story short, kiri is the god of love 

libras hate being alone

why do you think he puts up with bakugou constantly calling him shitty hair and pushing him around? 

i considered putting kiri with a water sign but they’re kinda babies (no offense i love my water signs) 

but i don’t think he could handle a person who is constantly emotional like many water signs are 

i would match kiri with a kind-hearted sagittarius 

Hitoshi Shinso- July 1; Cancer 

jesus christ ANOTHER CANCER?? 

i cant even be upset cause it makes sense 

while i would’ve thought shinso was a calm scorpio or a relaxde picses 

he fits much better as a cancer 

as mentioned previously with deku and denki, cancers really do have a heart of gold and just want to help people 

cancers are also very manipulative people 

i mean, look at this mans quirk 

cancers are also moody and pessimistic 

characteristics that shinsou has but are seen more as stoic and quiet

but cancers are also sympathetic 

and bb shinsou is a softie i just know it 

cancers are guided by emotion

like deku, he is seen as passionate for his desire to be a hero, even though his quirk is seen to be one of evil 

shinsou needs to be with someone who’s willing to listen when he opens up (which cancers hate doing)

i would match shinsou with an understanding taurus

Tamaki Amajiki- March 1; Aries

HUH

HUUUUH???

youre telling me this man is an aries and bakugou isnt?? 

i need to collect my thoughts 

OK so tamaki is an aries 

and honestly its pretty accurate

most times aries are seen as passionate in a reckless and angry manner

but tamaki’s passion is displayed in his dedication to being a hero 

i mean he’s literally in the big 3 

aries tend to be moody, which is seen in tamaki’s shy actions 

but they’re also enthusiastic and courageous 

tamaki’s courage is shown in the mission to rescue eri 

aries are seen as intimidating and tamaki’s dark features are exactly that 

and while he is very shy, he needs someone to help bring him out of his shell delicately 

id match tamaki with a gentle libra 

Mirio Togata- July 15; Cancer 

whats up with mirio and deku sharing the same bday doe 

this is way too many cancers 

BUT mirio is such a cancer lets be real 

we’ve covered the basics of cancers

sensitive 

loyal 

will do anything for others 

and most importantly brave

the sign of a cancer is a crab 

the crab symbolizes someone who doesn’t realize their great strength  

mirio is the personification of the strength of the crab 

and poor baby has gone through so much and deserves the world 

he’s so cheerful but he needs someone to be there for him when he’s at his most emotional moments 

i would match mirio with a tender capricorn 

PRO-HEROES

Shota Aizawa- November 8; Scorpio 

i mean cmon 

ofc dadzawa is a scorpio 

he’s the image of a stereotypical scorpio 

dark features, dark clothing, serious and kinda rude 

but scorpios get a bad rep for being meanies (we should be watching out for virgos tho) (jk jk i love my virgos <3) 

but scorpios have some of the best characteristics 

their loyalty is beyond words 

they would literally lay down their life for a friend or the good of others 

scorpios are passionate and assertive, and this side of aizawa definitely comes out 

aizawa is so stoic he needs somebody to soften him up 

i would match aizawa with a cheery cancer 

Hizashi Yamada- July 7; Cancer

another f*cking cancer

AND IT MAKES SENSE 

not just because aizawa and him are married and he’s a cancer and it totally makes sense 

but hizashi is such a cancer oh my god 

he’s sensitive, and caring, and brave, and a literal pro hero 

which is a cancer living the dream 

cancers often have difficult childhoods and struggle immensely to find outlets 

this fits with the theory that as a child, hizashi was put up for adoption and/or muzzled as a child because of his powerful quirk 

cancers are ruled by the moon, which would make sense to why they are so emotional 

because the moon goes through phases, so do they

hizashi needs someone that would help him be strong outside of his hero work and for his own mentality 

i would match hizashi with (aizawa or) a charismatic virgo 

Toshinori Yagi- June 10; Gemini 

ofc all might is a gemini 

he literally has 2 forms

and geminis are literally two faced

it makes so much sense that the symbol of peace is a gemini 

he’s adaptable and a quick learner 

geminis are affectionate and you cant tell me toshi isn’t the biggest cuddler and softie in the world 

geminis are people pleasers and just want to make others happy 

and all might’s literal thing is smiling to comfort those in fear

toshi needs someone who is understanding of what he had gone through as a retired hero and the bearer of one for all 

i would match toshi with an inquisitive aquarius 

Keigo Takami- December 28; Capricorn 

DADDY

ok but he is such a capricorn its not even funny 

he’s a cocky know-it-all kind of capricorn 

but he’s also a responsible and well mannered capricorn

capricorns are people who are willing to take on immense responsibilities 

and hawks is literally the no. 2 hero so of course he’s got a lot of responsibilities 

because he’s an earth sign, we wants to get the most out of what the world has to offer him 

including fame and money 

but hawk’s head strong and professional attitude is what comforts people and makes him such a great hero 

he needs someone who would match his energy well 

i would match keigo with a level-headed scorpio

VILLAINS 

Dabi- January 18; Aquarius 

FINALLY AN AQUARIUS

i have a deep love for this sign 

dabi is an aquarius and it is so accurate 

aquarius love to fight for a cause

in dabi’s eyes, the league of villains is the best cause he can support

and he’s at the front lines

they’re considered humanitarians,,and dabi is in his own “special way” 

aquarius love a good conspiracy and mystery 

and dabi is a total mystery 

aquarius constantly have to be stimulated and doing something

otherwise their boredom can lead to reckless actions 

they are also anti all emotions 

this is why they seem so aloof, they don’t know how to confront their own feelings 

i’d pair dabi up with someone who is willing to listen to him and hopefully allow him to open up 

i would match dabi with a charming sagittarius 

Tomura Shigaraki- April 4; Aries

now this is a stereotypical aries 

aries is ruled by mars, which was named after aries 

AKA THE GOD OF WAR??

like his literal goal is to destroy society,, 

aries love to be in leadership roles

they’re also short-tempered 

impulsive

and aggressive 

how ever, his more “positive” traits such as determination and passion are also evident in his characteristics 

they’re competitive people and tomura definitely is one 

tomura would need to be with someone who is calm  

i would match tomura with a patient leo 

Kai Chisaki- Birthdate Unknown;NA 

so kai’s sign is unknown 

BUT

he still deserves a match up 

besides his stance in villainy

kai as actually very well mannered and polite 

but he doesn’t value human life and sees his as more important and pure than those who are “sick” 

a lot of his characteristics would lead me to believe he is an unevolved sociopathic capricorn 

outside of being a villain i would match kai with someone who was understanding and a good listener 

i would match kai with a sympathetic pisces 

[alittlebitmaybe]

Ask meme time! Pick three fics you have written, post a favorite section of each and explain why it is your favorite. Then, pass it on! :D

oh goodness this is difficult because i tend not to think highly of anything i’ve ever written...but i’ll give ‘em a go!

beautiful, he stirs up still things

“Well, you make a good point, Witcher. But I already did pick someone else, you see.”

“Strike two?” Geralt guesses. “Did you put a hand up her skirt too quickly?”

“That rather remains to be seen, since I haven’t asked them to dance with me yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Since you ask, I’m actually quite nervous they’ll turn me down, too.”

“They won’t. No one ever turns you down.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier’s gaze on his face, like the weight of a heavy blanket. “Someone does,” he says, “quite regularly.”

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt stupidly.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Geralt swallows hard. “I don’t dance.”

“I’ll lead. I imagine it’s not so different from fighting. You’ll catch on.”

“I’m not going back inside,” he protests.

“We’ll do it here.”

The band, as if on cue, strikes up a slow tune that seeps out from the ballroom. Jaskier’s hand still waits, empty.

“Tell me if I’m pushing my luck, here, Geralt. I’ll leave you alone if you wish,” Jaskier says. “No hard feelings, none at all.”

Geralt tilts his head to get a look at him and immediately regrets it. His face is earnest and hopeful, still wine-flushed. The moonlight hits him gently, hugs the planes of his face, sparks off the blue of his eyes. Without any conscious thought, Geralt’s hand lands in his, and he beams like he’s never wanted anything more.

Then Jaskier releases it as he stands suddenly. Geralt looks at him in confusion, but Jaskier drops into a dramatic bow and takes the hand again. “May I have this dance?” he asks softly, dropping a kiss to the knuckles.

It’s ridiculous and over the top and sincere and Geralt can only nod wordlessly. This sort of treatment is so foreign that it tips into frightening, but as with all things Jaskier, Geralt finds himself diving in headfirst.

i really love this tender little oneshot i wrote, actually??? i was like, i want them to Dance and i want them to have Feelings about it. and then i DID THAT. i just really nailed the vibe i wanted in this fic, i think. this bit is the crux of it, when jaskier convinces him to dance. i really like all of it--the pining, the dancing itself, the kiss-not-kiss--but geralt having this internal dialogue of like “fuck i’m gonna dance with him in this garden, aren’t i?“ “you don’t gotta” “no i’m gonna” is just. the whole point tbh.

the brightest shade of sun

If they start arriving earlier to school regularly, it’s only because Geralt’s work appointments keep getting pushed up in the day.

The following Thursday they are third to arrive, breaking their streak of firsts and seconds. Ciri, pouting, gives him a little shove on the leg.

“We’re late because you spent too long getting dressed, Papa,” she says.

She’s not wrong. It took fifteen minutes to decide between the black t-shirt or the maroon t-shirt. He went with maroon.

Geralt raises an eyebrow at her. “Do we push people, Ciri? You know better than that. Don’t make me come down there.”

She sticks out her tongue and says, “You wouldn’t.”

Geralt sighs. Sometimes she’s like raising a little Yen. God help him.

Jaskier is fluttering about busily this morning, one arm balancing a stack of magazines and a box crammed with safety scissors and the other cradling a massive roll of posterboard. He brightens when he sees them. “Good morning, Ciri, Geralt! Did you sleep in this morning?”

Geralt says “Yes,” and Ciri says, “Papa was being weird about his clothes again. I don’t know why, he always wears the same thing. I knew I wanted to wear my blue dress today before I even went to sleep last night.”

“And it is an excellent choice as always. You do have flawless taste.”

“I know,” says Ciri, walking off to put away her things and join her classmates in the reading nook.

Jaskier’s pile of magazines tilts dangerously and Geralt takes half from him, saying “Let me help with those.”

“Ah, thanks very much,” replies Jaskier, standing up straighter with the lessened burden. “We’re just splitting these up between each of the four tables and leaving scissors at each seat. If you have a moment to help.”

Geralt does, counting off roughly a quarter of the magazines at each table while Jaskier distributes scissors and posterboard. Jaskier hums as they work. At the third table, Jaskier murmurs, “That color suits you.”

“Thanks,” Geralt says, losing his count.

this one is maybe cheating, because it’s not REALLY my fave part of this one (the planetarium scene was pure self-gratification), but it is up there and, tbh, underappreciated. there are so many little things in this simple bit i love. geralt painstakingly choosing from his 1 billion solid colored h&m basics tshirts. ciri sassing him so hard and dropping his secrets to jaskier. geralt being so caught off guard by the compliment from the pretty kindergarten teacher that his brain flatlines other than to make a to do list of one item reading “buy more maroon shirts”. he’s a fool. there may be a theme to these passages so far

another dawn

Now that he’s speaking about it, it all tumbles out. “I did it, once. The first one.” Every horrible word falls off his lips before he can stop it. “You died at the end of my sword. In the witch’s hut. She was knitting.”

“You—what?”

“I asked her to make it right. I asked for another chance. I’ve had many, and you still die.”

Jaskier glances at the swordbelt, face slack in surprise. “Steel or silver?” he asks faintly.

“Silver,” Geralt replies. “It wasn’t for you. I didn’t mean it.”

Jaskier gathers himself and huffs as if Geralt is being very stupid. “Of course you didn’t. You never would. I trust you, Geralt. With my life.”

“Apparently, you shouldn’t.”

“Sure, let me just upend my brain and forget the last decade of you protecting me at every turn, and I’ll get right on that.”

“Eight years.”

“What the fuck ever. Round up. Feels like a fucking century.”

Despite the tension rolling off him, Jaskier grasps Geralt’s hand. Geralt sucks in a breath, waiting to feel the wet slide of blood, the heaving death rattles, but they don’t come. His hand is warm, if moist, solid, alive.

“My existence, then,” Jaskier says. “My soul, my being, my legacy, my song. Whatever is left of me when life has gone, whatever scraps float about in my absence, I trust those to you.”

The continent knows I have loved you. They know who you are, Witcher. Blood on a hand-woven rug.

“Jaskier,” he says into the quiet, “I would not like to be without you.”

“Nor I, Witcher,” comes the soft reply. Another few long moments go by, and the godsforsaken drizzle starts up. Jaskier is the one to speak up, this time. “I’m going to kiss you, Geralt.”

this scene, when geralt gives in and just tells jaskier what he did and what he’s been going through, and jaskier is just kind of pissed off at him for a second, is absolutely my fave in here. it is SOFT. it is TENDER. it is SAD. like, jeez geralt, sure you mighta made a mistake but i’m here now. he knows geralt didn’t mean it with nary a second’s pause and is mainly frustrated that he has to explain that to geralt. this bit also contains 3 of my most self-indulgent lines ever. i just went for em. “my soul, my being, my legacy, my song,” that line, and the repetition of jaskier’s first set of last words, “the continent knows i have loved you,” fuck that’s pure nonsense right there, but i sure wrote it, and it sure does still make me sad. then we end it with “i would not like to be without you,” something that has settled itself in geralt’s chest since that first death but he never put words to until they fell out of him right there and landed in jaskier’s lap. oof!

[hotlineamy]

Problem Children

Characters: Engineer, OC character

Word Count: 990

Warning(s): N/A, mostly just swearing and pregnancy talk.

Summary: Engineer visits home watches the sunrise with his sister. Vague Half-Life references happen.

Heyyyyyy new fic. This one’s more self-indulgent, mostly just an aimless conversation, and mostly an excuse to write an OC I’ve had in my head for a while.

Sunrise just barely peeks through the Texas horizon. Dell squints up from the old porch swing, from a dim, flickering lightbulb he worked under for the last hour. He tips his notebook and rests a technical sketch of a new Dispenser component, a hazy idea he’d thought of while half-awake, against his gut.

Ideas came easier here at home, back on the ranch. Dell Conagher thrived on thinking on his feet, but the lack of gunfire and petty arguing solved a lot of creative blocks. All he had to focus on now were the sounds of cows and late-summer cicadas in the distance.

He should probably commit his idea to real blueprint paper, he realizes, but that would involve going out to the barn, into his old man’s workshop, and he’s too bleary-eyed to bother.

The front door creaks open. Dell looks up as a woman in a nightgown steps out. She yawns and ties a loose, lazy knot through a nightgown, enough to get it around her pregnant belly.

“Mornin’.”

Dell’s lips quirks as he slips his pencil behind his ear.

“Awake already?”

Evelyne Freeman, née Conagher, reaches through a frizzy, bed-headed mess of dishwater blonde curls and scratches her scalp. She was a near-spitting image of Mama with Pa’s stature. Meanwhile, Dell looked like Pa, with Mama’s height.

“Yeah. Kid’s kickin’ like a son of a bitch.”

Dell shifts to give his sister room on the other half of the swing. Evelyne looks to his notebook, then a beer on the arm of the porch railing, and snorts quietly.

Her husband was away for a few months. Air force business. The Freemans had a home in Austin, close enough to Bee Cave, but Evelyne decided to make a family visit out of it.

“You’re way too damn much like Daddy, you know that?”

Dell only answers with a knowing smile. Grinning back, Evelyne carefully settles next to him with a great, big sigh. He shifts his legs to slowly rock the swing.

Part of him thinks back to years ago, back on the same swing. He was nine years old, holding his newborn baby sister as Mama rocked them both. One of their few moments back then. After that, they got along like water and oil for a good while. Evelyne was his near opposite – outspoken, hotheaded, taller, and with a hell of a lot more hair. An outright firecracker. Dell was too – had plenty of his own rowdiness – but he was quieter through most of his childhood, and it took him longer to come into his own.

Back the present, Evelyn eyes the beer sitting on the arm of the railing.

“God, I’d kill for one of those.”

Dell reaches for the can and takes a long pull. Evelyne blinks. Her brows narrow, well-goddamn-aware of what he was doing. He grins behind the can.

“Bet I could outdrink you under the table again.”

“Bet y’could.”

“Bet I can do it the second after the kid gets off my tit.”

Dell snorts a gulpful of stale beer up his nose.

“Jesus, Evie.”

“What? I still could.” Evelyne grins. She’s well-goddamn-aware of what she’s doing too. Plus, she’s not wrong. She out-drank him plenty of times before. “Baby just takes the fun out of it.”

Like she minds. For all the complaining, she looked forward to being a mom. Evelyne Freeman, née Conagher: equine trainer, rodeo champion, bar fighter, hell raiser – and now loving mother. Come a couple months, that baby was going to raise hell too.

Dell coughs, shakes his head, and looks to his notebook. He stakes the pencil out from his ear and gets back to sketching.

“You still thinkin’ on names?”

Evelyne stares out into the dawn. She goes quiet for a moment.

“… Yeah. Got some ideas now, though. Maybe… Priscilla, like Mamaw.”

Dell nods with quiet approval. Priscilla ‘Prissy’ Conagher was another force to be reckoned with. Dell and Evelyne never met their great-grandmother, but were often told stories about the elaborate, cruel-and-unusual traps she’d set around her farm just to keep people off her property.

“Gordon, too.”

“Gordon?” Dell says with incredulity, looking up. “Gordon Freeman?”

“I dunno. Joey mentioned it.”

“Joey’s got shit taste in names,” Dell says, ‘Joey’ coming out of his mouth with barely contained repugnance. Why Evie married that meathead was still beyond him.

“Okay, Dell.” Evelyne snorts. “Didn’t realize you were the world’s dullest expert on baby names. No wonder your machines got borin’ names.”

He quirks a brow. She quirks a brow back. A moment passes, then until Dell backs down with a sigh, shaking his head and looking back at his sketch. He knew better to argue with a woman six months pregnant who knew how to throw hands.

“Gordon’s decent.”

“Thought you’d come my way.”

Satisfied, Evelyne settles her arms over her stomach and leans back against the bench backing. Dell finishes the final touches on his sketch. For a bit, they sit in comfortable silence.

Finally—

“You goin’ back to New Mexico soon?”

Dell hums. “I’ll try stick around. You’re gonna pop soon, anyhow.”

“Shit, bun’s in the oven for another few months, Dell. I ain’t worried. You won’t miss out on the uncle thing,” Evelyne says. Then, after a small, hesitant pause: “What do you gotta do out there, anyway?”

“Told you, Evie,” Dell says in a flat, no-nonsense tone he’s used before. “Defense contractin’. They use my machines, I keep ‘em working. I can’t talk about it much.”

“God.” Evelyne tilts her head back in the most dramatic of pouts. “You ARE like Daddy.”

Dell looks up with small, sideways smirk, but adds nothing else. Evelyne was tough, practical. Blood didn’t scare her. Even then, though, she didn’t need to know about the bloodshed back in New Mexico. Even with Gray Mann’s army turning fights more metal than flesh – things still got bad sometimes.

Mama worried enough between him and Daddy.

[vince-thrilligan]

Bob Odenkirk on Naiveté, PTSD, and Kim’s Downfall

“The hardest thing for me was to play the naiveté of Jimmy as a younger person, where he starts in the series. You could say he’s become more cynical, but really, it’s self-awareness and I love that.”

Awards Focus: In interviewing your castmates, we’ve heard a lot of praise for your work. What stands out to you as a highlight for this season?

Bob Odenkirk: Well, we had a great season overall. But my favorite thing is the way Jimmy learns about himself and exhibits this sense of self-awareness. It’s great because the hardest thing for me was to play the naiveté of Jimmy as a younger person, where he started in the series. You could say he’s become more cynical, but really, it’s self-awareness and I love that. On the other hand, what he does with that self-awareness isn’t too good. He has these realizations about himself, but they give him an outlet to become ethically unmoored.

AF: Well, it’s funny because Kim, who seemed to know exactly who she was in previous seasons, looks like she’s losing herself. Does Jimmy worry that he’s opened Pandora’s Box?

Odenkirk: It’s a very strange thing, that last conversation. Because at first, you’re probably thinking that Kim’s just trying to make him feel less alone. Maybe she’s just trying to have some fun, make some gentle light out of those dark instincts Jimmy has. Or maybe she does it to make him feel a sense of his own limitations. But then those theories seem to fall flat, because Jimmy says, “Let’s slow down.” And she’s like, “No, no, no, let’s keep going.”

And she seems to genuinely mean it, to have some genuine delight in hurting Howard, who doesn’t really deserve it. Whereas Jimmy obviously pulls some crazy stunts, but those are more childish, almost like a teen prank.

AF: In talking to Jonathan Banks, we learned that he disagreed with the writers on some of Mike’s choices and he told them so. Do you have points where you’ve given the writers some pushback on Saul’s actions?

Odenkirk: Honestly, yes. There are moments where I say that “I think this is too far,” or that I don’t understand the choice. And most of the time, we’ll have a conversation where we come to some understanding on the story direction, which is to say I compromise (laughs).

After all this time, I like this character. I want him to make the right choices, almost like a friend. But sometimes the answer from Peter Gould is simply, “He’s not your friend, and he doesn’t make the right choices. That’s the story we’re telling. You don’t have his ear.”

And in the end, we know how those choices pan out. We’ve seen Breaking Bad and the road Saul takes.

AF: Yet there’s so much we don’t know, the arcs of other characters that have yet to be answered. Mike gives Jimmy a great speech about being on a specific road and not being able to get away from it. What road do you think Kim is on, going into season six?

Odenkirk: Well, I gotta say, when you see that last moment of season five, you get a glimpse at one of the core elements of the story. Because Saul is no longer asking himself who he is. Now he’s asking, Who is Kim Wexler?

The woman who does that finger-point, gunshot gesture when asked if she’d harm an innocent man, who the hell is she? She’s done these little ethically compromised things, mostly as a team with Jimmy, with a kind of a sense of playfulness and partnership. But now there are real questions as to what’s going on in Kim’s head.

AF: The writers have certainly altered the status quo of the relationship between Kim and Jimmy over the course of season five. How do you navigate that as actors, especially in the context of broader character changes?

Odenkirk: There are definitely specific story choices and plot choices that are challenging to consolidate with the character. The moment where Kim asked Jimmy to marry her is one of those, where Rhea and I both wondered, How do we make this real? It was easier for me because all I had to do was act befuddled, which is how anyone in that situation would feel. It was harder for Rhea.

But I would say the hardest thing for me is when Jimmy’s doing a purely Saul Goodman thing, or doing something vindictive. It’s hard to understand that when you don’t have the instincts or life experience that might lead you down that road.

But that is a testament to the writers, they’ve given the character a sense of that now. Earlier on he would make these bad choices, and he seemed very blind to the ways in which these manipulative things would affect him and the people around him. Now he seems to understand how stuff can backfire. And he’s accepting that, moving forward with a stronger sense of realism. He’s choosing to be Saul Goodman in those moments. He’s more conscious about everything, from adopting the name to the flamboyant shoes and clothes. He’s choosing to play this role in part of his life, to give it a name, and to let that part of his spirit run rampant.

I love that development so much because the young Jimmy, he was hard to play because of his naiveté. As an actor, Saul’s self-awareness is great.

AF: In episode nine, you got to play a Jimmy who is not only physically beaten down from his trek through the desert, but also suffering from PTSD. It’s really unique to see him squirming in front of Lalo. Normally, he’d find something to say, but he’s in this weak state, and it’s just another facet you get to add to the character. The tension in that scene was incredible.

Odenkirk: Thank you. The thing is that Jimmy absolutely knows what’s happening. When Lalo says “Tell it again,” Jimmy knows he’s being played and prodded. He senses the danger, because this ploy can actually work. If you want to catch somebody in a lie, make him tell that story over and over. Jimmy knows what’s happening, but he’s too depleted to use his normal powers of logic twisting, to have the spirited energy for that kind of gamesmanship. But thank God, Kim comes through for him.

AF: Lalo’s terrifying in that scene and Tony Dalton brings so much to the character. What do you think’s going on in Lalo’s head as he listens to Jimmy?

Odenkirk: I think that was a tough one for Tony too, I imagine. You know, what’s going on inside that guy’s head who would usually just pull a gun and do it? He doesn’t care about anything.

But partly it might be that he figures he has Kim on his legal team. I mean, why not just keep her, she’s so good. If she’s got the grit and courage to give Lalo a piece of her mind, then she’s a good person to have on board.

AF: Vince Gilligan called episode eight the most challenging episode he’s ever directed. How was that experience?

Odenkirk: Yeah, filming in the desert was a brutal challenge, but even within the brutal challenge there was a kind of joy. I love when we have adventurous and physically demanding sequences. I just love it. One of the fun things about acting is going places that a real person doesn’t get to go very often. If they live their life with some degree of restraint and steadiness, it’s rare for one to find themselves lost in the desert.

AF: During much of their desert trek, Jimmy carries two massive duffel bags filled with cash. Practically speaking, how was it acting with those for multiple days?

Odenkirk: If those bags had been filled with real money, they’d have been 75 pounds each. I don’t think I’d get that far with 150 pounds. Maybe a couple miles, which is a lot less than the distance Mike and Jimmy covered. But the bags were actually 40 pounds each, which is still very heavy. So the physical effort that shows up on the screen is very real.

AF: I’m assuming the heat was the bigger enemy?

Odenkirk: It was nightmare heat. And of course, you’re playing things over and over again. And Vince is an extremely thorough director who is shooting multiple, multiple takes from every angle. But it all worked out, because my suffering was essentially the character’s suffering. I was all for that stuff, as long as it was safe. When you have such a big crew and you’re out in the middle of nowhere with temperatures that high, it’s genuinely dangerous. It took a few days to bring in enough safety equipment to keep everybody on the crew cool. It’s definitely a bonding experience to take on something that big together and Vince did a wonderful job of shooting.

He could have made a two hour episode if he’d indulged himself with the amount of cool footage we got. But him condensing that, it was even more impactful that way.

AF: This was a deeply dramatic season with some dark plots, but there was some comedic relief, like the cell phone tent scene. Is it as refreshing for you to perform those moments as it is for the audience to see them?

Odenkirk: Oh man, I have so much fun. I get really silly, and I really try to push it to the point where the writers want to tell me to pull it back a bit. But they wrote the character, and he’s a silly character, so I go with that. My trick is to go as far as I can, but try to sell it to an audience. For example, last season, I was at the grave pretending to feel at the one-year anniversary of Chuck’s death, because I know some of his law partners will come around to plant flowers and I want them to see me grieving. So I’m at the grave pretending to grieve and I’m actually saying “boohoo” as I cry. But I do it in such a way that someone approaching wouldn’t quite hear the word “boohoo.” I take these moments that the writers give me and push them as far as I can, because it’s really fun.

AF: One particularly funny moment featured Jimmy, a stunned Everett Acker (Barry Corbin), and a picture of a man having sex with a horse. What did you think when you read that, did you play around with various animal punchlines?

Odenkirk: No, we didn’t. It was written exactly that way and, in my opinion, it was perfect. By the way, Barry Corbin, who played Everett, is an absolutely great actor. I saw him in No Country for Old Men just the other day, and man, he’s great. I loved the absurdity of that horse picture scene.  Jimmy knows how to rope in a client (laughs).

Part of AwardsFocus.com’s BCS interviews [x]